


The Last Sacrifice

by gracediamondsfear



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bad Parenting, Bathing, Biting, Blood, Bruising, Choking, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Force Bond, Force Training, Humiliation, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Little One, Menstruation, Miscarriage, Oral Sex, Piercing, Pregnancy, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex Slave, Star Wars AU, Virgin Sacrifice, Whipping, black glove kink, chess as foreplay, dead doves, he's a monster yes he is, marking your territory, minotaur au, or so he thinks, probably some stockholm syndrome, scarred hero, shackles, unnecessary jewelry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 00:50:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracediamondsfear/pseuds/gracediamondsfear
Summary: Every year a girl is sacrificed to the monster in the maze below the palace…Kylo Ren. Every year Queen Leia tells the sacrifice that there is a path to survival if she chooses to take it. Will orphan handmaiden Rey finally learn to soothe the savage beast or will she discover that his darkness is what feeds them both?this is a one shot for the Dark Side of Reylo Halloween fest and was supposed to be a one shot. Based on response and time and inspiration it may be turned into a multichapter exploration of this weird relationship down the the basement :D





	1. Chapter 1

Rey had known since she was fourteen that one day she would be sent to the Labyrinth. That was the year she started bleeding; the year she became a woman ready for sacrifice. And like a predator smelling their prey, her blood caught the attention of the palace and from that day on they waited. Of course you couldn’t be sent to the Labyrinth until you’d finished your nineteenth year, so there was a bit of respite, a glimmer of hope, but it was like living in a pen…a cage…fattening the calf for the feast of a monster.

“His face is scarred and pitted, with eyes milky white and unseeing…”

“The virgin girls go in but they never come out…”

“You can hear their screams when the storms roll in from the sea…”

“He whips them and beats them and fucks them to death…”

“Bazine!”

Rey was shocked by the coarse words of her roommate but the other girls sitting around the breakfast table made no move to contradict her. Surely that wasn’t the nature of the sacrifice? She’d read for months about the rituals, the preparation…bloodletting and branding and forced meditation, but no one had ever mentioned sex.

“Look at Rey! Speechless for the first time in her life,” Rose said, laughing. The other girls joined in but there was fear bubbling behind it. Any one of them could be next.

She was indeed speechless. Once they’d mentioned it however, the thought consumed her. She was a young girl, a virgin, and her thoughts often wandered to fantasies of her first love, her first kiss, her first time. And yet now she found all of these daydreams clouded by the image of a snarling monster pawing and tearing at her body, breathing down her neck. Sometimes the dreams were vastly different and she was straddling the beast, his claws sunk into her naked hips while she rode him. It terrified her, to be sure, this vision of the unknown, and yet no matter what her imagination presented about him, no matter what punishment he meted out on her body, she always woke up with her thighs smeared with her own slick.

* * *

Kylo Ren looked down at the broken body of his pet, her head at an odd angle, lips dark. She’d wrapped the silk sheets around her neck and hanged herself from the fourposter. A complicated feat to be sure and a clear message. She’d preferred death to a life with him. It was an offer he gave each year after playing with his prey for a few days, batting them around like wounded mice. Of course there were some he didn’t like right from the start and they were not given the choice, their sacrifice rejected in one manner or another. There were others who fought too hard, some who didn’t obey. Some, like this one, who found their own way to escape him.

But no one ever stayed.

* * *

It was only two months after her twentieth birthday that she was called to the fountain at the town center. She suspected she was chosen because she was an orphan, one of the young girls working in the palace gardens serving the queen. In fact Queen Leia had taken an interest in her early, teaching her to read, how to brew powerful sleeping potions and painkilling balms from the herbs and flowers in the garden, even teaching her how to dance – not a proper waltz or quadrille, but dancing alone, for the audience of a man. The Queen told her that she should never ignore her sensuality, the desire, the need that most girls were taught to keep hidden for propriety’s sake.

_“But I’m a virgin your highness,” Rey had said, her cheeks blushing a heated pink. _

_“Of course you are, but you should still be able to move like a seductress. To show a man your soft, submission coupled with your strength.”_

If there were anyone at all that would mourn her loss it was the Queen herself and yet there she was, standing in front of the fountain. Beside her a fire roared in a stone altar, a branding iron stuck deep in the white hot coals. Rey nearly passed out from the pain of the burn – a circle with pointed spokes seared into her left shoulder – but the only one to cry was Leia.

Two weeks later, when the brand was healed and darkened, the other girls took her to the baths, scrubbing her skin with salts and oils until it glowed, ringing her eyes with kohl, tinting her lips with red berry juice. They twisted her hair up into three knots run through with golden threads and dressed her in a white linen gown.

“May the gods be with you,” Rose said, hugging her close. “Your sacrifice brings us peace for another year.”

* * *

His father always paid him a visit on the night before the sacrifice but he never went so far as to touch his son or enter into his chambers at the center of the maze. Instead he stood outside the iron door that kept Kylo in, speaking to him through the small, barred window.

That night the prince’s temper was high. He’d gone months without a pet and the king could see the evidence of his frustration in the broken glass and torn books, long white slashes in the stone where the iron of his sword had gouged in. Angry, hateful words marred the walls, the paint dripping from them like blood and Kylo himself sat on his bed, staring at nothing, not looking up at his own father.

“There is a way to keep these gifts you’re being given. You must discover it.”

  
Now he stood near the center of the massive labyrinth, dressed, groomed…presentable. In the distance he could hear the crowds, the music, even the wailing of women pretending to mourn the young girl who went in their place. He folded his hands behind his back and waited.

Rey was closed in with nothing but the dress on her back. Her feet were bare and the damp darkness chilled her to the bone as the musty air swirled around her. 

“There is a path to surviving this,” the Queen had told her. “You must decide to take it.”

She walked towards the first crossroad, running her hands along the roughhewn walls. Turning the corner she saw a dim, pulsing glow in the distance. Wrapping her arms around herself she took a breath and moved forward, feeling herself pulled to the light.

It wasn’t long before he could hear her. Unlike the others though, all he heard was footsteps. There was no screaming, no pleading, no whimpering in self pity.

“Where’s my new pet?” He called out, his voice calm and even. “I’m anxious to devour her.” He walked slowly through the endless, narrow corridors, dragging his gloved fingers along the walls. “Little one, where are you?”

She froze at the sound of his voice. It was deep and smooth, almost soothing in its cadence, nothing like the monster she’d been warned about. He continued to call to her as she picked her way through the narrow maze, his voice like a lure, pulling at something deep in her belly. The light ahead of her grew brighter and she moved forward, turning a corner…into the broad chest of Kylo Ren.

And finally she screamed. He was at least a foot taller than her, hooded and swathed all in black, his face obscured by a scarf wrapped up to his eyes…which were not milky white and blind but dark and penetrating, glittering in the low light of the stone maze.

“I’m…I…” she took a single step backward and Ren’s arm shot out like a viper, grabbing her easily around her waist, pulling her tight against his hips.

“Welcome pet,” he said. “Allow me to thank you for your sacrifice.”

He held a small crystal vial in his black gloved hand, the liquid inside a swirling inky black.

“Open your mouth little one,” he said, flicking the vial open with his thumb, his arm tightening around her waist to hold her still.

Her instant compliance gave him pause and he took the time to take in the delicate beauty of her young face – her eyes sparkling with determination and energy, her skin golden from her days in the garden. She was trembling, but held her chin was high, betraying the terror simmering beneath the surface. There was something about her that was different and he felt it right away as her lips parted and she opened her mouth, letting him tip the potion over her tongue.

She woke in a room much warmer than the dark corridors of the Labyrinth, on a soft, satiny bed, wrapped in black furs. The room was golden with the light of oil lamps and she stretched, blinking awake. There, at the foot of the bed, the monster was crouched. He’d pulled back his hood to reveal wavy black hair swept back from his face which was still hidden, wrapped in a black scarf. Above her, the canopy of the fourposter bed was draped with an odd fabric, swaths of white with rusty red stains, threads and rags hanging like stalactites. She squinted her eyes, trying to understand what she was looking at. Dresses. Torn white dresses…not unlike her own.

“Souvenirs from my other pets,” he said, his voice low and murmuring.

“Where am I?” 

“You’re my pet. Have you already forgotten? A sacrifice to the monster at the center of the Labyrinth.”

“Why do you hide? Why are you disguised behind a mask?” She asked, wrapping the furs tighter around her body.

His eyes were mysterious, almost bronze in the yellow light of the lamps, and he only blinked in response, watching her every move with an arched brow, his fists clenching and unclenching as he crouched low - a predator waiting to strike. It was almost painful to hold his gaze and so she turned away.

The room was not at all like the maze she’d been locked in…only the stone walls were the same. Here there were towering bookcases, a chess table with ornately carved marble pieces and two thickly upholstered chairs. On a sideboard near the bed were silver platters of food, crystal decanters of wine, what looked like chocolate truffles in a fine porcelain dish. Paintings and artifacts hung on the wall, including a shining black leather whip coiled into a tight circle and placed on a black iron hook. In fact there were chains of all sizes and weights hanging in swags from the ceiling and bolted to the walls like macabre garlands for some dark celebration. The floor was covered with more black furs and the oil lamps swung from the ceiling on fine bronze chains. It was almost…comforting. It was warm. The low ceilings and soft light would have been cozy had she not been a prisoner. In fact, as she attempted to move her leg she felt the heavy weight of a shackle. It was made of thick mottled iron encircling her ankle with what looked like an endless length of black chain snaking off the bed towards the wall. She ran her fingers over the links before looking back up at her captor.

“Show me your face,” she said, lifting her chin, attempting to be insistent. “Please.”

For a moment he said nothing, but she saw the corners of his eyes crinkle and heard a low chuckle behind his scarf. He held his gloved hand out, fingers extended, and the fur she’d been wrapped in was pulled from her body, flung to the floor.

The Force.

Villagers had spread rumors of the Force, a mystical, spiritual power from the gods that could literally move mountains, even kill if properly wielded, and was only held by those of royal blood. Most people thought it was a fantasy, a myth, something to hold the peasants in fear. But Rey could see now, feel it alive and fluttering through the air around her. She could see in the fiery gold glint of his eyes that he held it, he’d harnessed that power and now she would fall victim to it. Again she screamed, scrambling to the head of the bed as Kylo Ren stood and prowled closer.

“Ah, there it is,” he said. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

He climbed onto the tall bed, pulling her beneath him by both of her ankles, his huge, powerful hand sliding up beneath her dress as she kicked and squirmed. Still he only laughed, running the tips of his leather clad fingers over her sex, through the thatch of hair that kept it hidden. A low growl rumbled from his throat and she felt it deep in her belly, as if it had vibrated through her.

“I’ll split you open little girl,” his hissed, his voice low and muffled by the mask. “I’ll fuck you until you’re limp and whimpering, begging me to let you rest.” Without warning he slid a thick finger inside her dry core and she cried out in pain. “But I’ll never let you rest, pet. And the worst part will be that you’ll grow to crave it.” His finger pumped slowly and her body began to accommodate his invasion, softening, growing wet. A second finger stretched her and she wailed. “Yes! Crying out for it. That’s your sacrifice. I’ll wring everything from you.”

Rey continued her fight beneath him, writhing and whimpering, slowly working her arms free from where his torso had pinned her down and with one hand she reached up and pulled the black scarf from his face, her fingernail dragging over his cheek.

Kylo froze, pulling away from her frowning, his eyes like glowing embers in a fire. He was unhappy with her and his towering form was frightening for sure. But he wasn’t a hideous beast. His face bore scars; through one eyebrow, a thin, pale line across his chin, and a long, dark, jagged scar running the length of his cheek, but other than that he was…he was almost handsome, with full lips and a squared jaw, creamy skin that complemented his hair. She drew her brows together thoughtfully, her mouth fallen open.

“You’re not a monster at all,” she whispered, nearly to herself, averting her eyes from his burning gaze.

“Yes I am,” he hissed, getting up from the bed. “How _dare_ you touch me without my permission.”

He stalked over to the table and drank directly from the crystal decanter, blood red wine dripping down his chin that he wiped away with the back of his glove. She could swear his hand was shaking and she took the opportunity to stand, to get away, to buy another moment’s respite, dragging the iron chain along the floor behind her. There was no escape. She knew that much. But there had to be a way to survive.

“And you were going to do the same to me!” She said, with a bit more anger than she thought herself capable of. “I only thought it fair I should see who would kill me.

He smiled then, a wicked, terrifying smile before stalking towards her, backing her against the stone wall, the cold edges digging into her spine.

“Kill you? Why would I kill you?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock civility as he held tight to her jaw. “Your body is of no use to me dead. That’s why there’s a new girl sent down here every year, pet. I like them fresh.” He searched her face as he spoke, like examining a new tool or a piece of artwork to see how it might best serve him. “Look how you blush at the thought of it. A virgin I expect,” he murmured, leaning into sniff at her neck, to bury his nose in her hair as his hand cupped her breast.

Without warning he spun her around, pressing her face into the wall as he easily ripped the back of her dress, letting it flutter to the ground, exposing her completely. She hissed at his fingers running over the still sensitive brand on her shoulder. Something warm and wet followed, the flat of his tongue running over the raised flesh.

“So pretty,” he purred, kissing the brand. “It means you belong to me. Your mouth, your cunt, your tits...they’re mine.”

She whimpered at the pain of her cheek cutting into the crags on the wall as he kissed his way down her spine, her hardened nipples against the rough stone. But beyond that, for a moment, a quiet moment that she didn’t want to admit, it felt glorious to have this powerful man that everyone feared pressing his lips to her skin; the monster prince, forever imprisoned, knelt at her feet, silently worshipping her body. Gooseflesh rose on her arms and her eyes fluttered closed as his wet mouth pressed into the small of her back. Then he bit down hard on the soft globe of her ass as he dug his fingers into her hips and Rey screamed in surprise and pain and kicked backwards, knocking him off balance. She spun around to run but he was already up and standing, towering in front of her in a second and she was pinned again, this time his eyes nearly glowed red, but she knew it was just the flames from the oil lamp. It had to be.

“A feisty little bitch,” he said, closing his hand around her throat, one thick thigh driving between her legs and pushing her up until she was all but hanging from the wall. “I like fighting. I was hoping you had a spark in you."

_There is a path to surviving this…you must decide to take it._

“D-don’t you w-“ she tried to speak through his viselike grip but her words were only a breath.

“What’s that girl? You’ll have to speak up,” he said, his grin wide and wicked.

Instead of speaking she lifted her shaking hand and ran her fingers over the length of the scar that ran down his cheek, over his smiling lips. Her hand was chilled, but soft and the light touch startled him. When he flinched she fell to her knees, gasping for breath.

“Don’t you want…a willing…partner?”

She was so pale in contrast to the dark stone floor, her shoulder blades poking from her back like the buds of hidden wings, bright gold threads weaving through her chestnut hair like streaks of lightning, wide, wet eyes looking up at him. She appeared almost mythical. Brimming with life. Life and Strength. Strength and innocence…and naivete. A strange combination to be sure but it gave him pause for once.

“Willing?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “And you think you’re the one to be that willing partner? What do you have to offer me little virgin?”

She sat back on her heels, her hands in her lap. Sat like this he could see the long, slim column of her neck and the small taut nipples on her creamy breasts, her chest betraying her fear as it rose and fell with her nervous breath.

“Submission. I have no…skills to offer. I’ve never had a lover…but I…I will do what you ask of me and try to learn to please you. I...I need a teacher.

For a moment Kylo only stared. This was a tactic he hadn’t seen. There had been some who gave in quickly, going limp beneath him, closing their eyes to imagine someone else. Some lied outright, faking their pleasure, plying him with false flattery in an effort to win his favor...a ploy he detested and harshly punished. But he'd never had a pet who admitted her fear and offered her body to him in spite of it.

_There is a way to keep these gifts you’re being given. You must discover it._

“Stand up, little one,” he said, his voice lower, calmer than before, and she felt the words in a frisson running over her scalp. When she stood with her hands folded behind her back, offering every part of her for his inspection, he asked a question he’d never asked before. “What’s your name, pet?”

He touched two fingers under her chin to tip her face up. The flames of the lamps caught her eyes and the color flickered gold in the light.

“Rey.”

“Rey,” he said. “You’re brave to offer yourself to me Rey." He leaned in to brush his lips over her temple before purring into her ear. "You know I can take anything I want.”

His hand moved to her breast; his thumb brushing over her nipple once or twice before he pinched hard, twisting it enough to make her cry out. Satisfied with her pain he moved on, his palm on her belly and then his fingers between her legs. All the while his eyes were locked on hers, watching her reaction. She stood, still and proud, her chin held high as tears puddled in her eyes, but he could see her eyelids flutter when he found her hidden pearl, stroking his leather clad finger over it. It was slick. She was warming to his touch.

“Open your mouth,” he said, shocked again to find her obeying instantly. He stuck two fingers between her lips. “Remove my glove with your teeth, Rey.”

She did as he asked, gently tugging the leather from his hand and dropping it to the ground. When he offered his other fingers she didn’t need instruction, pulling the glove off while looking up into his eyes. If she focused on his eyes, warm, sunlit amber, caramel almost…she could see humanity. She could see that he was intrigued by her. She could find the path to survive.

As soon as she dropped the second glove he wrapped his bare hand around the back of her neck and pulled her lips to his, kissing her with such power and ferocity that she was bent backwards, her mouth forced open by his hot, insistent tongue. He was not usually one for such…intimacy…as kissing, but there was something about the plumpness of her lower lip, the way her mouth had looked around his fingers that made his belly throb with need. He was already hard and aching, her voluntary submission making his blood boil with lust. She moaned beneath his mouth, reaching up to grasp the fabric of his cloak, holding tight as he continued to take her breath, her soul, with the workings of his lips.

“Undress me,” he murmured against her mouth. “Everything. Strip me so I can fuck you.”

She broke away and lifted shaking fingers to the thick iron clasp of his cloak. The heavy fabric fell over her arms and he watched transfixed as she carefully folded it in half and placed it on the bed.

“No need for manners pet,” he growled. “Let them fall to the floor.”

He pulled her back with a hand around her waist and she nodded, untying the belt at the waist of his tunic and pushing it down over his arms when it fell open. For a moment she didn’t move, her tiny, cold hands smoothing down the length of his lean, sinewy arms. His torso was thick with muscles, criss crossed with scars and swirls of black ink, a symbol over his heart that matched the brand on her back that she touched with two fingertips. She’d always loved the bodies of men; the strength and angular nature of their build, so different from the lyrical curves and soft edges of women. Even his skin, taut and rough with hair, was different from her own and she liked the feel of it.

The gentleness of her exploration ignited his need and he pulled her hips firmly against his. She could feel the length of his erection against her stomach, hot and hard. When her mouth fell open, jaw slack, she heard him chuckle under his breath as his hand slid up her back and into her hair, snapping her head backwards to look down into her eyes.

“Keep going little Rey, that’s for you.”

She went to her knees in front of him, unfastening the laces of his black leather trousers, tugging them down. She’d caught glimpses of men before, sneaking to the baths and seeing them laughing and swimming, their limp, flaccid members swinging between their legs. But never had she seen such a hard, thick cock, standing straight up, bobbing away from his flat, muscled stomach, the trail of dark hair below his navel leading her gaze. She turned her eyes up to him, awaiting instruction, but he only grabbed her by the hair, pulling her to stand.

“Later, once you’re well trained, you’ll take all of that in your pretty mouth,” he said, roughly shoving three thick fingers between her lips to the back of her throat. She gagged and he laughed out loud at her distress, wiping his wet fingers off on her shoulder. He nuzzled her neck, licking at the pulse point below her ear, his hot, throbbing erection trapped between their bellies.

“You’ll swallow my seed like it’s ambrosia, won’t you pet?” He asked, his hand roaming down between her legs. He was surprised to find her warm and slick, his fingers easily sliding between her lips. “Won’t you?” He repeated, pinching her clit hard.

“Y-yes sir,” she cried out, her knees buckling under his ministrations.

"Mmm, good girl," he murmured.

For a moment she thought he was going to be gentle with her, pleasure her. For a moment she forgot that she was prey; but before she could move to grind against his fingers, he pulled back and grabbed her around the waist, throwing her onto the bed face first. Rey squealed as he pulled her hips to the edge, her feet on the floor, kicking her legs apart. Without a word of warning he pushed inside her, one hand on her neck to hold her down, the other guiding his length between her folds. She didn’t cry out. She didn’t beg him to stop. She was still but for her trembling and he moved slowly, watching as her body stretched around him, taking each thick inch of him in.

“What a well behaved pet,” he breathed. “You know your place already.”

Rey curled her fingers around the furs beneath her, biting into her bottom lip as it felt like she was being torn in two, just as he’d predicted. And yet as the heavy heat slid over the front wall of her passage she was calmed by a feeling of delicious fullness, a wave of arousal bubbling through her blood as his angle allowed her clit to grind into the mattress. Kylo felt it too, the way her hips tipped backwards, a twitch from deep within her, rippling down his length. He drew back and thrust in again, surprised to hear her groan.

"Gods yes, she already knows how to fuck. I do believe you were made for this little virgin.”

He moved to dig his fingers into her hips, hauling her up on her knees to drive deeper as he folded over her body. She pushed back to meet his thrusts but he could hear her whining, whimpering in desperation.

“What is it girl, what do you need?” He asked, slowing his pace so he could relish the feel of her walls surrounding him, squeezing him, warm and wet.

She didn’t answer, only moved her hips, her hand snaking beneath her writhing body to stroke between her legs. Kylo grabbed her wrist and bent her arm roughly behind her back, thrusting hard against her hips as she wailed in frustration.

“Do you want to feel it? Do you want me to make you feel the ecstasy little pet?” He hissed in her ear.

Her writhing and wriggling beneath him nearly pushed him over the edge, his climax tightening at the small of his back, his body tingling with impending release. And yet he needed her to feel it too, he needed her to know what it was that filled his thoughts, the pleasure he chased with every sacrifice that wandered into his trap. He needed to be the only one who could give it to her. He would become her god. He wrapped a hand around her waist and stroked her clit between two fingers, his mouth sucking at her neck.

“Come for me pet,” he whispered. “Seal your fate with me. I'm the only one who can make you come and one day soon you’ll need it as badly as I do.”

She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to admit her desire for a beast, a rapist, a…monster. And yet his fingers worked magic between her thighs.

“Please…please…” she wasn’t sure what she was begging for but everything else around her was fading away…everything but a deep, throbbing need that she couldn’t sate. A need that she knew Kylo could fulfill.

“You’re mine,” he growled, pressing against her slick, hardened bud as he gave a final thrust. “Forever, Rey.”

She bucked forward as she fell over the edge of bliss, her mouth fallen open as she grasped at nothing, crying out for nothing, needing nothing but his cock spearing into her as her walls milked every drop of his seed from him. Waves of ecstasy thrummed through her as he groaned his own climax, pinning her down beneath his hot, heavy body, still buried deep inside her warmth. His breath on the back of her neck made her shiver and she collapsed, exhausted beneath him

The shackle was heavy and made it difficult to sleep, but the bed was more plush and comfortable than any she'd ever slept in. She woke in the dark, the lamps extinguished, the monster gone. And although her body was sore, battered, she wondered why her captor had left her.

He hadn't. He was hidden in the shadows on the other side of the room, his mask and robes concealing him once again, his fists clenched tight in frustration. This little handmaiden; this delicate, fragile creature with cold hands and a warm gaze, what had she done? He could still hear the sounds of her climax echoing off the walls, the feeling of her body merged with his, the heat and sweat they generated. But more than any of that he heard her voice in the dark.

It was when he'd pulled out of her and flipped her onto her back, hovering over her to see her cry, to see her regret, to watch her beg. Instead she'd touched him again, her fingertips on his scar, his lip, the length of his nose. She'd pulled him down to kiss him, her hand tangled into his hair, her legs opened for him to wedge himself between, laying across her chest. Their tongues tangled together and she clung to him as if he might disappear and when he pulled away to breathe she'd whispered,

_"Thank you."_

When she stirred, sitting up and wrapping the dark furs around her body, he stood and made his way back to the bed, pulling the furs away to expose her completely. She furrowed her brow, upset at seeing him concealed once again, his mask back in place. She was naive to believe that one night with him would change him forever.

"Have you rested?" He asked, running a finger over the bone of her ankle, up the inside of her leg.

She nodded, looking for some sign of kindness in his eyes, but he only stared.

"Do you regret offering your body to me?" His hand smoothed over the inside of her thigh, then to the warmth between her legs.

"No," she answered quickly. "I'm yours now Kylo," she breathed as he sunk two fingers deep inside her wet core, his thumb brushing her clit. "I give myself to you," she said, her eyes fluttering. "My s-sacrifice."

"You've signed your own death warrant then, pet," he whispered, his voice soft, almost sad as he thrust in and out, slowly bringing her to the edge of climax. "It's just us now, here in the darkness...alone."

"Oh! Kylo!" She cried, grabbing his arms, her fingers clawing at the thick fabric as her body trembled in his hand.

He smiled beneath his mask, seeing how her cheeks flushed pink, her eyes glassy with arousal. Her inner silken walls clenched around his thick fingers and she caught his gaze just as her orgasm overtook her.

"Kylo...y-you're not alone," she stammered, falling forward into his chest, breathing in the smell of his skin, his clothing; smoke and spice and iron.

He pulled his hand from her and sucked his fingers clean before grabbing her hair by the nape, bending her head backwards.

"Neither are you pet," he said, pulling his scarf away from his face in order to kiss her. "Neither are you."


	2. Shackles and Jewels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very well, you win. I will make this a multichapter fic of unapologetic, nonstop smut. I predict maybe five or six chapters...we'll see where these crazy kids take us. Also please mind the tags.

She walked the floor of the clustered suite of rooms at the center of the maze; the prison that he’d been confined to since his power had manifested. Her tether gave her access to all but his private rooms, a darkened cave set the furthest from her bed. But there was enough to explore. The heavy chain at her ankle dragged behind her, a god-awful rattling on the stone floor as she ran her fingers over the spines of his books.

“Can you read, pet?” He asked, suddenly appearing at her side, his gloved hand heavy on the back of her neck.

She had no clothes, but on her third day he had given her a thick black iron necklace with a blood red jewel at the center that nestled perfectly in the hollow of her throat. It fit tight to her neck, like a collar.

“Yes sir,” she said. “The Queen taught me.”

He smirked and her eye was drawn to one of the thicker volumes, bound in oxblood leather with shining gold letters embossed on the spine: ILLUSTRATED EXPLORATION OF THE PASSIONS OF MAN

“Ahhh Rey, what a filthy mind you have little one,” he said, reaching over her shoulder to pull the book free and open it. The gilded edges of the paper reflected the glow of the oil lamps as he flipped through the pages. She gasped at the illustrations within, almost frighteningly realistic naked bodies, lean and strong, twisted together, hands and tongues and mouths open in ecstasy. He stopped at one called the Holy Hexagon and chuckled, low and menacing, setting the book in her hands.

“Take it,” he whispered into her ear, his nose brushing through her hair as he held her to him with an arm around her waist. “Read it. It will certainly prove beneficial for both of us, I’m sure.”

This was how she spent her first few days below ground…wandering as far as she could on the length of her chain, in the caves that he called “her chambers”. At night (or what she believed was night, the rooms were always oppressively dark, nothing but lamplight and damp air) he would come to her and just as promised he would fuck her until she was limp, exhausted, begging for him to let her breathe, let her heart slow, her mind clear. She gave herself willingly, letting him twist and turn and push and pull her in any number of directions, telling her how to move, what to say, ordering her to beg him for her release and demanding she wait until he granted it. There were things she didn’t know she was capable of doing, or feeling, words she thought she was incapable of saying before he whispered them in her own ear and she felt the shivers of arousal drip down her spine like melted butter. 

He was always above her, pinning her down on her back or her stomach, pushing her to her knees, holding her against the wall. She knelt, she crawled, everything she did was done in pure, eager supplication.

Because she’d felt the pain that came when she didn’t.

He’d let her sleep that first night. Her dress lay on the floor, torn to shreds and he gave her nothing to replace it; but after giving her figs and cheese and a glass of rich and heady red wine, he’d put her to bed like a child under his care, covering her with furs and extinguishing the lamps with a wave of his hand. She lay there in silence as he gathered up his gloves and his cloak and slipped back into his black pants without a word. He checked the sturdiness of the chain before leaving the room and then she was alone. 

When she woke there was food. The lamps were lit and there was a black box on the bed with a tag, inscribed _For My Pet, Rey_ in beautiful, intricate calligraphy. Inside was the heavy iron necklace. She instinctively put it on, the clasp locking it tight around her throat. She was alone, and the silence in the low ceilinged chamber was like a weight on her skin, wrapping around her, slowing her down. There was a small room with a wash basin and a hairbrush, a place for her to relieve herself and freshen up. The cool water felt good on the bruises he’d left, now turning purple on her pale flesh. She dragged the chain to the chess table and set up the pieces, passing the time by pondering opening moves although she’d only played a handful of times. 

There as no way to know how long she was there by herself, but when he arrived in the darkened doorway on the far end of the room she screamed in surprise. Again he was in black, forgoing the cloak and mask, his hair swept back from his face. He stood with his hands folded behind his back, watching her, frowning at her frightened reaction. Her tether would not reach far enough for her to go to him, to fall at his feet; still he’d hoped for a bit more than seeing her recoil in horror, jumping away from the bookcase and onto the bed. 

“Where do you think you’ll hide from me, pet?” He asked, lifting an eyebrow but not moving from his position.

With one of his hands outstretched then clenched into a fist the chain yanked forward and she tumbled off the bed onto the stone floor, crying out in pain.

“I…I was startled, sir. I was…”

“Crawl to me,” he said, the words slow and deadly from his lips. There was no request behind them, it was a simple command.

She stayed on her knees and moved forward.

“The chain…it won’t reach you…”

“Don’t worry Pet, I’ll meet you halfway. I only want to see you on the dirty ground where you belong; the stone digging into your skin, cold and rough.”

His smile was lopsided, selfish, glowing with joy at her expense, but still she crawled forward until the chain was stretched taut behind her. Kylo walked his half of the journey and stood close, his black leather boots in front of her face. 

“Stand up,” he said.

When she took a moment to think, to gather herself, he grabbed her hair with a gloved hand and pulled her to her feet, searching the pale, frightened look that took over her features. 

“Are you hard of hearing…REY?” He spoke her name louder, mocking.

“No sir, I’m afraid.”

“And fear does look so beautiful on you, my sweet,” he said, licking up the side of her neck. It sent a shiver through her; something distinctly different from fear and she felt him chuckle against her her throat. “Show me your gift,” he said, pulling back to look at her neck. 

The gem glistened in the low light of the room, and he smiled at the snug fit, the dark, worn color of the iron against her pale flesh. He wanted to give her more, to drape her in precious metals and jewels, creating a work of art from her lithe, cream colored body, weighing her down with decadence so that she could never run away. Next he would give her a bracelet, a heavy cuff soldered to her wrist. Holding her hand he could see the blue branches of her veins beneath the surface of her skin, like crooked trees reflected on the snow. On the surface were dark, fingertip shaped bruises. They covered her body; on her hips, her belly, dark purple red marks sucked into the tender flesh of her neck. Beautiful jewels of his own creation. The sight of them enflamed him and he growled in arousal, pressing her little hand to the hard length of him beneath his trousers.

“Are you sore today, pet?” He asked, walking her backwards, guiding her toward the bed.

“Y-yes sir,” she said, avoiding his gaze, trying to keep her balance. 

“Poor girl,” he said, reaching his hand down between her legs and stroking her sensitive, aching lips; frowning when he found she was dry, tightly closed, not at all ready for him. “And not thinking of me, I see. Still closed up tight as a walnut.” He pinched one of her labia hard enough to make her cry out before pushing her to her knees. “If you cunt isn’t wet, your mouth always will be, no?”

“Y—yes sir,” she said, folding her hands in her lap.

  
It shamed her to admit that in fact she _had_ been thinking of him. She had lay awake for hours after he left her, staring at the torn and bloodied dresses that made up the canopy of her bed, thinking about the way his skin had slid against hers, his breath on her back as he thrust inside her. She thought about how he’d kissed her, his hot tongue running along her throat as his fingers stroked between her legs. But most of all, she’d thought about how he’d said her name, how he’d looked into her eyes and for a moment she saw warmth instead of fire. She’d thought about it for a long time.

Even now, the whole time he stripped out of his tunic and leather trousers he kept his eyes locked on hers; and although his face was calm, his voice smooth and melodic, she could see the lust and want smoldering in his caramel eyes. For the second time she took in the gorgeous planes and curves of his body, the rippling muscle over his ribs, the dark dusting of hair on his arms and chest, a trail of it below his navel leading to his thick and intimidating cock. He stroked himself slowly and she felt her stomach tighten, the muscles between her legs clenching at the sight of him taking his own pleasure.

Were she not so frightened of him she would ask to see him finish the task, to be able to watch his face, his mouth, the strain in his throat when the ecstasy overtook him. Instead she sat silently, waiting for instruction. He had warned her only hours before that she would be told to take him in her mouth. It was an act that Bazine and Rose had spoken about with giggles and gags, surprised and disgusted at the details of the practice, which they’d learned when training as courtesans. 

He took her chin in his hand and tipped her face up with much more gentleness than she expected.

“Open up and show me, pet,” he said, groaning at the sight of her pink lips parting, the glistening wet warmth within. “Do you want me to fuck your mouth with my cock, Rey?” He asked, tipping his head to the side as he stroked his thumb over her tongue, pressing down to feel it curl around the thick digit.

“I’ve never…I don't know how…”

His eyes flared with rage and he closed his hand around her throat, squeezing until she could feel the pulse of her blood pounding behind her eyes.

“I didn’t ask if you were skilled in sucking cock, Rey. I asked if you wanted me to fuck your mouth.”

“Y-yes sir,” she squeaked, clenching her fists in her lap, biting down the urge to lash out, to bite his arm, to spit.

She’d offered herself to him, offered her full submission and still he was so cruel and it was infuriating. Every once in a while her rage bubbled up, like a spark crackling out of a smoldering fire, and every time it did she forced herself to douse it. The flashes of pleasure and kindness he’d shown her were like cracks in a mask, quickly repaired in the time he spent away from her. She knew that she could crack it again, break it into pieces that could never be melded together, but she also knew it would take time. And so, swallowing down her fear, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth to him.

“Good girl,” he breathed. “Go on, lick…taste it…” he cooed at her, one hand on the crown of her head as he felt her tongue flick out over his flesh. “More…”

She closed her lips around the thick head of his prick and he slid deeper, hissing at the tight fit, the warmth of her tongue sliding along the underside of his shaft. Careful not to scare her, not to trigger her to bite, he pushed in further, holding the back of her head. She whimpered and the sound vibrated through him. He stiffened further, doing his best to prolong the delicious pleasure of her bobbing back and forth, her hands on his thick thighs to find balance. 

“Suck girl, take all you can. One day you'll take it all like a good little slut."

Again she groaned but for some reason it didn’t seem like discomfort and so he thrust deeper, hissing his breath through his teeth.

“I’m going to empty into your belly, Rey,” he growled, moving faster, a bit rougher than he intended. “I’m going to fill you up, little one.”

Her fingers dug into his legs and when he looked down he could see her thighs spread, hips rolling, bucking against the air. She was…aroused. She wanted him. He quickly pulled out of her mouth and threw her onto the bed, her chain rattling across the floor.

“You’re aching for it now, aren’t you girl? You want me inside you, don’t you?” He asked, roughly palming her breasts, bending down to suck at the tender bruises on her throat.

Her cheeks were hot, her scalp tingling as she remembered the way he’d thrust into her the night before, how every nerve in her body had burst with ecstasy at his touch. She didn’t wait for him to ask again, only nodded, reaching out for him, wanting to kiss him like he’d kissed her the day before, with passion and fire and want.

He shouldn’t have given in to her, shouldn’t have weakened, but that he wanted it too, to taste her mouth again. Their mouths sealed together and Rey wrapped her arms around his back as he sunk into her wet core, his thrusts slow, deliberately torturous. He wanted her to beg. Her heels dug into his calves as he pressed deep, rolling his hips lazily.

“Pl…please…please Kylo…" she breathed, her fingers digging into his back. She'd expected a smooth, broad plane of skin but instead she felt thick, raised ridges, jagged and long…scars. 

"What is it, pet? What do you need?” He held her jaw with one large hand, his hair framing his face.

“H..harder…please. Faster.”

She was chilled to the bone by his grin, wide and lopsided, his eyes glittering in the low light. Before he gave her what she needed he raised her hands above her head, pinning them to the mattress, the metal of her collar cutting into her skin as her body stretched, her shackle cold and heavy on her ankle. He began his punishing pace and she was silently thankful to be on her back, to be able to feel him stretch and fill her, the heat of his shaft sliding in and out while also watching his face. She could see his brow furrow, his cheeks flush. When he held tight to her wrists and growled like a beast she knew he was close and his pleasure…pleasure that he took WITH HER was enough to push her over the edge, her body clenching and twitching around him, heart racing as she came.

It was a beautiful sight: her bright, young eyes glittering with energy, her mouth fallen open as a high pitched whine escaped. Her back arched, her breasts pressing up to his chest as her cunt milked at his thick cock. Seeing her fall apart beneath him brought his own climax, hard and fast. It hadn’t been his intention to be staring into her gaze as he filled her, but for some reason…they were locked. He let himself collapse on top of her, his head resting between her breasts, his seed trickling down her thighs as he caught his breath. He expected her to push him away, to kick and scream, rake her hand across his face again in rage. Instead he felt her fingers, warm and gentle, carding through his hair and his throat tightened.

His need for her angered him. His need to touch her skin, to stroke her cheek and feel her breath. It was weak. These girls. They were sacrifices to a monster, not lovers, not soulmates. They weren't meant to burrow beneath his skin. His mistake was in kissing her, in feeling her soft, plump lips pressing against his, her tongue twisting into his mouth. He shouldn’t have wasted hours laying awake, staring at the crags of stone reaching down from the ceiling, repeating one word over and over again until sleep took him. He never should have asked her her name. 


	3. The Prince

She kept the book he’d given her next to her bed, studying the pictures and words when she was alone, memorizing the advice and instructions within as if it were her job. Some of the positions and…more intimate activities frightened and disgusted her, but she was careful never to mention her apprehension as she knew how much he enjoyed setting her back on her heels. Were she to reveal her fear he would seize on it, force it to bloom like a hothouse flower. And yet every time he did, her body would respond. What would start as dread would melt into need, a throbbing ache for more. The hours he spent with her left her so confused by the workings of her own mind that she wondered if she were going mad. So for the most part she stayed silent, and with the book she learned how to placate him, how to please him. She learned how to survive.

But as time crawled forward she became lonely. The damp air and darkness were stifling and there were times when she went nearly a full day without hearing the sound of her own voice, much less his. Sometimes she would sit on the edge of her bed waiting for him for hours, perched like a thin, pale bird, listening to the angry sounds of metal on stone, the sharp, resonating ring of a sword crashing into the walls, groans and growls and mumbled words. She would watch the doorway to her chamber and yet he would never appear. On the darkest, angriest nights he would burst into her room unannounced and without a word of greeting. On those nights there was no pretense, no teasing or taunting. With a wave of his hand her covers would be torn away and he’d pounce on her like a beast in the jungle, holding her down as his lips and tongue covered her with wet, hot kisses, sliding inside her without a word of warning. It was easier for her to take him, growing easier every time, and her body always warmed to his touch, open and slick within moments, but the stretch and pull of his massive length as he dragged in and out was always met with a whimper and her fingernails dug deep into his back. He took great pleasure in her discomfort, ordered her to take all of him, to open up to him, to obey. She did everything he asked, but when he was finished he would simply pull back, gather himself and leave her alone. 

Weeks passed and she was given more jewels, her wrists and ankles and neck weighed down with blackened iron and rough-hewn diamonds and rubies. The last gift she'd been given were silver combs for her hair, studded with emeralds that had been harvested from the stone walls of the labyrinth. She thanked him on her knees, with her words and in other ways, but when she tried to speak to him further he would close in on himself, make rude or lascivious comments, trying to embarrass her into silence. If she was going to survive she would have to find a way to break through. 

Her cycle came and she was sure she saw a wave of disappointment on his face when she told him of it, warned him about the blood.

“Do you think I’m afraid of blood, little one?” He’d asked, backing her into a corner, massaging her aching breasts beneath his palms. “I would love to watch you bleed for me.” His eyes roamed over the room where various frightening implements hung from the walls, leather whips and many tailed floggers. He’d refrained from using them for some reason he couldn’t articulate, but her resistance that morning was tempting. He ran his hands over her stomach, the creamy white flesh of her ass that he'd dreamt of turning pink. “Were you hoping it would keep me out of your bed?”

“N..no sir…no. Kylo…” she moaned his name, her eyes rolling back as he nuzzled her neck, his tongue running over the pulse point below her ear. Without thinking she stepped her legs apart and he stroked her slowly with the pads of his fingers.

She would never try to keep him from her bed. It was the one time she felt alive.

After more than a month had passed she heard a sound outside her room, the sliding of stones and shuffling feet. It wasn’t from the direction of Kylo’s chambers and so she gathered the furs up to cover her naked form, watching the dark rocks sliding aside to reveal a small window with iron bars. Queen Leia was on the other side and she was smiling.

“Rey,” she said, her voice warm. She reached her hand through the bars to beckon the girl closer. “You look…well.”

“Well?” Rey asked, swallowing down her anger but still refusing the queen’s hand.. “I’m a prisoner in a dark, damp cave, kept on a leash. This monster…this beast…”

“Prince,” Leia said, her eyes sad although she was still smiling. “He is our son. Our only son.”

Rey’s blood ran cold at the words and in an instant her anger morphed into pity, sadness…for her captor. She recalled the way his brow had furrowed any time she mentioned the Queen, his reluctance to tell her anything about his family, no matter how she begged. Looking up at Leia through the iron bars she thought back to the raised, rough scars on Kylo’s back and wondered how they were formed. 

“You keep your son…imprisoned beneath the ground? Treat him like an animal —“

“Rey, I know it seems…wrong,” Leia said, unable to hold Rey’s gaze, “and there are days when I feel like I am the monster myself, unable to believe I would do this to my own boy…but you have to understand, he’s not like you and I. He has a strange ability, a power, one that he can’t control…”

“The force,” Rey finished for her, stepping away from the window and running her fingers over the chess pieces she’d been moving from both sides. “I’ve seen it.”

“It isn’t natural. It’s…it’s witchcraft…and when he’s angry he’s hurt people, even without meaning to. He feels things so deeply, so strongly, that the force will take over and there’s no way to stop it.”

“It still doesn’t give you the right to treat him like some sort of…criminal, a monster.”

“You called him a monster yourself just a moment ago,” Leia said, the corner of her lip turned up in a knowing smile. What it was she thought she knew, Rey couldn’t be sure.

“I…I…Not because of the force! Because of what he’s become,” Rey said. “What the darkness has made him.”

“But you see something more, don’t you?” The queen asked, her voice low and desperate. “You can see what he needs.”

“I…I don’t…” Rey wouldn’t look up, her eyes focused on the heavy chain that had coiled around her ankle like a snake. She’d grown callouses on her feet and the bone of her ankle. The shackle didn’t hurt anymore.

“There’s still light in him, I can feel it. You can feel it. He needs to learn to use it just as he uses the dark.” A noise behind her startled the queen away from the window. “You look well Rey because he’s treating you well, better than the others. There must be a reason why.”

Leia disappeared from the opening and the stones slid back into place, leaving Rey more confused than she was before. A mother afraid of her son’s own power, holding her own flesh and blood hostage? She’d never expected to feel sympathy for her captor. She’d never expected to feel anything for him at all. What they shared was purely physical, a release, a way to pass the time as both of them rode out their fates in the darkness, and yet as the queen had explained his history she’d felt herself driven to defend him.

“A visit from the King?” Kylo stood in the doorway sneering, his arms crossed over his chest, spitting the last word like a poison. 

“No…from…the…from your mother actually.”

His lips parted as if he were going to say something, but she only stared as he tried to hide his surprise. She wouldn’t push him to explain, he would talk when he was ready. They had nothing but time. 

As that time had passed Rey had become more comfortable with her nudity. Kylo kept her in the center chamber like a rare pet, an exotic animal on display, and her mind had successfully twisted such things into compliments. She walked to the end of her chain and offered the prince a small smile, approaching him like an animal in a snare, slowly, quietly for her own protection.

“We were close when I was a child...before...She was happy to see me in one piece,” she teased, bowing her head as she’d been instructed.

“Surprised no doubt,” he said, walking past her, further into the room. His voice held little of the invective he’d afforded his father; in fact she could detect something like pain lacing the words. “I don’t want to talk about my mother, pet,” he said, turning and pulling at the belt of his black tunic with a definite finality.

She was well trained and just the sight of him beginning to disrobe made the goosebumps rise on her arms, her scalp prickling with energy, but she stayed still, her hands folded behind her back, her hair twisted into one long braid that hung over her shoulder. 

“What…did you need from me…your highness?” She asked, testing the title.

“No,” he said, looking up sharply, his eyes burning into hers. “Don’t say that word to me. The prince is dead. Their son is gone. I am all that remains, and I hold no title. I am nothing but anger and hatred and darkness, a stain on their name, hidden beneath the ground, buried here to save my family’s honor.”

He stalked closer to her, enraged by the way his heart pounded against his ribs, his blood hot not only from arousal, a physical need, but from shame. Shame and anger. His mother had never come to speak to his "victims", the offerings she herself had branded for his use. She should have known that he hadn’t wanted Reyf to know. He didn’t need her pity and he didn’t want to be treated like honorable royalty. All of those things were left behind when he was closed behind the iron gates on his fifteenth birthday.

She took a step closer to him and put her hands on the laces of his leather trousers, loosening them slowly. His mind screamed at him to punish her, to flog her like he’d imagined doing while stroking himself the night before, but instead he stood still; dumb, stunned...weak and let her minister to him. 

“It’s alright, she’s not here anymore,” she said, reaching one hand inside to wrap her fingers around the shaft of his hardening prick and touching his cheek with the other. “I’m sorry for making you angry.”

“Y-y-es,” he stammered, regaining control. “You’ll pay for it girl, don’t worry.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his bare chest to feel the hardened points of her nipples brushing his flesh, the smooth, cool surface of her skin soothing his own. She was trembling in his grip and he smiled, his confidence rebuilt as he took back control of her body.

“Shaking, little one? What for?” He smoothed one hand down the curve of her spine to grab the back of her thigh, hooking it over her hip. “Afraid?”

“No sir…” she said, tipping her head up, “cold.”

Her lips parted and he bent his head to kiss her, to run his tongue along her bottom lip before sucking it between his own. She tasted like figs and sweet grapes and he took as much as he could, his fingers tangled into her hair, wrapping the long braid around his hand. She stroked his length, her leg wrapped around his hip as she struggled to balance. Breaking the kiss, Kylo chuckled at her unease and spun them both around, walking her backwards to the bed. She stumbled and fell back onto the furs and he stood between her spread legs. Her eyes still told him the truth every time he came to her. Her eyes were still wide and afraid even as she told him she wanted him, that she was ready for him. It didn’t matter. There was no need for her adoration. That’s what he told himself as he went to his knees before her, holding her open with both hands. 

She held her breath, looking down at the prince carefully examining the glistening pink petals of her sex. Just as she was going to ask what he was doing he blew a warm stream of air over her skin, chuckling at how she flinched and whimpered, trying to pull her legs from his grip. 

“Lay still little one,” he growled, focusing his amber eyes on hers. As soon as their gaze locked she felt herself pinned in place, unable to move even her tiniest finger, a steady, humming energy running between them. “I haven’t gotten a chance to well and truly look at this tight little cunt that I’ve ravished.”

He tickled a finger over her slick lips and slipped it inside, slowly stroking her, twisting and thrusting in and out. Her body, frozen to the bed, tensed and tingled, the need to move surging through her blood, every nerve ending sizzling with arousal. 

“Please…please…” she whined, her cheeks flushing hot as he added a second finger before kissing her mound, burying his nose in the thatch of hair and breathing deep.

She could do nothing but focus on the delicious pleasure of his ministrations, nothing but look down at him working her body into a frenzy that she couldn’t express. And then his tongue flicked out, the wet tip circling her clit as he pumped harder, crooking his fingers deep inside. Still she could only watch, only breathe and focus her eyes on his intent stare. 

_He wanted to watch her fall apart because of him. He wanted to make her feel good. He wanted someone to stay with him._

She blinked. 

How could she have known what he wanted? How could she have known what was in his mind, nearly hearing it in his own voice? 

“K-kylo…I…I can’t…I'm going to...” 

He suckled and thrust and worked faster, deeper, finally removing his fingers to lap at her sex with wide strokes of his tongue. She groaned in building ecstasy and his eyes flicked up to meet hers once again. And just as she tumbled into bliss he freed her body, letting her arch and writhe against him. Their eyes were locked as she clung to his hair.

_He was happy. He wanted her to say his name._

“Kylo…” she cried as the waves crashed over her. “Kylo…I…I can see you!”


	4. Untrained

He fell back on his heels as she went limp against the bed, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. She covered her eyes with her forearm and licked her lips.

“What? What did you say?” He ask, wiping his wet lips on the inside of her thigh.

“I thought I…”

He looked up, sliding his hands up her legs and over her hips. Tasting her ocean clean essence on his tongue had made him nearly dizzy with need. Her legs were limp and spread wide as he pulled himself up to hover over her body, his cock prodding at her warm, wet entrance. 

“Don’t hide your face from me,” he said, pulling her arm away and kissing the inside of her arm, just beneath the heavy iron bracelet he’d locked around her wrist. “Everything you are belongs to me, little one, and I like to see your face when I stretch your cunt.”

He growled through bared teeth and pushed inside her, arching her back as each inch bored through her, sliding into tight, pulsing heat. When he was sunk deep he let go of her arms, letting her wind herself around him, digging her fingers into his back. He liked the feeling, the sharp pain of her nails against his scars, the taut and sensitive skin around them.

“Hurt me,” he hissed, beginning his slow, torturous thrusts, making her whine, grinding her hips against his, bucking and rolling, trying to find deeper friction. He snapped his hips and looked down into her eyes, now wide and glittering. “_Hurt me_,” he said again, this time his voice trembling and low.

She searched his face, her eyes wide as she locked on his gaze again, just like she had before. He watched her pupils widen, felt the waves of energy flowing from her. _From_ her. It couldn’t be…it was impossible. 

“I…could see…hear…I knew what you were feeling…somehow. And now…now somehow I know…”

He silenced her with a kiss, letting her taste the earthy cream of her lust and she drank it down eagerly, her hands sunk into his hair. Bending down to the soft patch of flesh beneath her jaw, he bit and sucked hard enough to raise a dark bruise he could admire for days. Marking her perfect peachy cream skin inflamed his arousal, seeing her blood rush to the surface, hearing her whine when he laved at the wound with his hot tongue. When she wore his mark…

“I’m truly yours,” she finished. 

“Stop,” he growled, covering her mouth with his hand as he drove into her heat, grinding hard into her hips. “Stop talking.”

She wriggled beneath him, closing her eyes as he thrust hard, her tight walls pulling him in. Her back arched, her lips falling open beneath his palm, warming it with her breath.

“You think too much little one,” he said, filling her mouth with two thick fingers, pressing them against her hot tongue. “You’re not here to think. You’re here to fuck.”

She nodded her compliance but her brow furrowed and he moved faster, deeper, sinking into her to the root, consuming her completely, growling with each thrust. As he began to stutter in his rhythm, feeling his climax building, the heat, the waves of pressure, he wanted her to —

She sucked at his fingers, closing her lips tight around them, swirling her tongue over the tips, hollowing her cheeks just as she did when he fed her his cock. The combination of sensations set him off and he stiffened mid thrust, emptying inside her, groaning as he dragged his teeth over her neck. Without him directing her she wrapped her legs around his thick thighs, digging her heels into his ass as he jerked and twitched with the last throes of his orgasm.

“My pet,” he breathed, rolling his hips slowly, running his lips over her shoulder. “My sweet little thing.”

“What did you do to me?” She asked, her face shrouded with fear and confusion. “What have you done to my mind?”

“What are you talking about?” He pulled away from her and got up from the bed, striding over to the stone bench that held the goblets and wine. His heart was still racing, cheeks still hot as he caught his breath and beads of sweat rolled down between his shoulder blades.

Rey appeared at his side, her jewels glittering and dark against her snowy skin, a flush of pink high on her cheeks. Around the palace were white marble statues of the gods, flawless and smooth with clear faces strong and calm. As a child he would study them, every detail, the strength of their muscles, the tendons in their throats, the hint of bone beneath taut skin. Now it was if one of them were standing before him: the young goddess of renewal perhaps, or the queen goddess of fertility and rebirth. She held her head up around him now, rarely cowered unless he startled her, unless he snapped or surprised her. She stepped past him and took the crystal decanter, pouring both of them a goblet of wine which he drank down eagerly, watching as she tipped the blood red liquid to her own lips, staining them dark. And wet. Seeing it made him want to spill it over her skin, bathe her in it. 

“We’re not done,” he said, slamming down the goblet. “I want you again. Get down on all fours.”

“First tell me what you did to me,” she said, standing in front of him. Her hands balled into fists at her sides were shaking but her eyes were fiery and he nearly laughed at her defiance, her resistance. “Why could I…why was I hearing…”

For a moment he held her gaze, focusing on the ring of gold around her pupil, slowly drilling into the recesses of her mind. 

So lonely. So desperate to belong somewhere, to be needed. She lay awake at night, desperate to sleep, unable to rest from the thoughts rushing through, the conflicting feelings warring in her mind. She was afraid and yet still she wanted him to stay with her, she didn’t want to be alone in the dark.

“DON’T!” She cried, backing away from him, her fiery eyes now filling with tears. “Why are you doing this? Haven’t I done everything you asked? I’ve been good for you! Now your intent is to drive me insane?” 

She sunk to her knees and crawled to him, dragging her chain across the stone floor to kiss the tops of his bare feet. Already he could feel the blood rushing back to his cock as he looked down at her shivering body. But when their eyes met he was surprised to see that every drop of the need and want he’d seen only minutes earlier had melted into abject terror. She bowed before him not in arousal but in fear. 

It shouldn’t have mattered. He’d seen fear before. He’d fucked fear before. It shouldn’t have mattered, but he didn’t like it.

“Get up,” he said, his voice even, but firm.

She didn’t hesitate, but when she stood she wouldn’t meet his eye. It was the first time in weeks that she’d done so and it angered him further. He grabbed her jaw with one strong hand and lifted her chin. Her lip was trembling and a single tear slid from the corner of her eye.

“What are you afraid of? What did you see?”

“I…I could see you,” she said, furrowing her brow. Then, shaking her head she added “No…not see. I could…”

“Feel,” he said, once again probing her mind. “_You could feel what I was feeling_.”

  
Rey’s jaw dropped. She heard the words as clearly as if he were speaking them and yet his lips hadn’t parted. 

“I…I…”

“_Now I know_,” she heard in his voice while watching his mouth stretch into a smile, his eyes alight with energy. “_Now I know why my mother picked you_.”

“Because you’re as poisoned as I am,” he said, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. “I wonder how you were able to hide it for so long.”

She stood, dumbfounded, in the center of the room as he walked around her, lifting locks of her hair to sniff, touching the bones of her back, the raised scar of her brand, squeezing her ass until she squealed. His seed leaked out of her, running down the inside of her leg but she didn’t dare move as he examined her from head to toe, looking at her differently, as if she’d woken up as a whole different woman. 

“H-hide?” She asked. 

Deep down she knew what he was going to say to her, she knew the truth that she couldn’t bear to admit, the truth that would keep her hidden in the ground forever even if he were to open the doors wide and set her free. 

“Oh no pet, I won’t be doing that.”

“I’m possessed,” she said. “The Force has infested my mind. The darkness…”

“It isn’t darkness,” he snapped, coming to a stop in front of her. “It’s power. It’s life. It’s the universe and everything that holds it together. And only a very few of us have the blessing of being able to use it.”

Everything in the room was brought into sharp focus, every one of her senses alive, reaching out from her soul. His hair was damp with sweat and she could smell her sex, his essence, leather and iron and dirt. For the first time she saw the scars hidden beneath the ink of his tattoos, the pain that he'd hidden beneath all of the black.

“I..I can’t use it, I only saw…”

“Because you’re weak,” he sneered, his smile evil and taunting.

“What?”

“You’re only a woman. An orphan. You’re young, weak, untrained,” he said, curling a lock of her hair around his finger. “Untrained in the deeper things, I should say. Although your studies in taking cock are progressing immensely.” 

He laughed and she narrowed her eyes. She felt warm, too warm, and there was a buzzing at the base of her skull, vibrating through her blood. Were he not the prince, were she not a slave on a leash she would have slapped him.

“Oooo,” he whispered, leaning in close to her, his nose brushing her temple. “She’s getting very angry, my little pet. She wants to hit me, she wants to give me a piece of her mind,” he snorted, laughing in her ear, “what little she can spare.” 

He pressed his full, soft lips to her burning skin and she jerked away, clenching her fists so tightly that her fingernails dug into her palms. 

“Stop. Stop it,” she hissed through her teeth, the buzzing louder, heavier, her scalp prickling. “Don’t touch me.”

“Don’t touch you?” He said, laughing again. “I own you, girl! I can touch every part of you whenever I like.” By way of demonstration he quickly pushed two fingers between her legs, up through the silky wetness of her well used pussy, crooking them both forward to make her cry out. “There’s nothing you can do without me...little girl.”

“I said, don’t touch me!”

All at once the buzzing burst from her skin like ripples on the water from a rock thrown in the sea. He stumbled backwards, knocking over the decanter of wine as she watched in horror. It was her anger that had done it. Her anger alone had pushed him. She wrapped her arms around herself and backed away as far as the chain would allow, waiting for his punishment, some sort of retribution for her impudence, but when he looked up at her he was smiling, his eyes bright.

“Do you see?” He said, rushing toward her. “You _can_ use it. It’s strong in you, I can feel it. You’re untrained in the force but far stronger than you know.”

He held her face in his hands, brushing her hair back before bending to kiss her. He was gentle, softer than she’d ever felt, but when he pulled back from her lips his smile was wicked. 

“All you need is a teacher. I'll show you the ways of the force and we will break free of this prison. You and I are the strongest in the kingdom, little one. And with our combined power we will rule it together.”


	5. A Promise of Destruction

  
_“You and I are the strongest in the kingdom, little one. All you need is a teacher. We will break free of this prison, and with our power we will rule it together.”_

* * *

  
She had never seen such determination, such fire and energy in his gaze. Since the moment of her arrival his lusts and tortures had been tinged with a lazy confidence, the sort of comfortable apathy that came with eating your favorite meal every week, knowing it would always be there. But now, now that he’d seen the force flowing through her, now that he’d watched…_felt_ her knock him backward with her anger alone, his hunger and need for her were renewed. 

“Kylo, I don’t know anything about…” 

Speaking gently, she reached out for him, to hold his hand in hers, to ground him, but he was enflamed, pulling her into his arms, his grip tight and unforgiving, fingers digging into her skin. 

“You don’t need to know anything. Everything is within you. I’ve done nothing in this…this _prison_,” he spat, “but hone my skills, tune my awareness to the force, meditation. We were born with this you and I. And soon you’ll feel it, it will be like a constant thrumming in your soul…”

Still she was stiff in his arms, nervous at the manic passion in his voice. 

“But I haven’t…”

He stopped her talking with a deep, nearly punishing kiss, his tongue warring with hers, his hand heavy at the nape of her neck.

“Then I’ll fill your belly,” he said, his huge hand slipping down to cover the flat plane of her stomach, taut and pale, his lips moving to find the pulse in her neck as he purred against her skin. “You’ll give me a child…a child stronger than either of us. One that could lay waste to the planet, the most powerful in the universe.”

She wriggled in his tight grasp, unable to look him in the eye, afraid of the low and menacing way the words fell from his lips, a promise of destruction. 

“Please, Kylo…” she touched his face to calm him, her thumb tugging at his bottom lip. “I can’t...I don't want all of that..."

He stopped, his momentary fire turning to ice in the blink of an eye and she pulled away, to preserve herself.

"You don't _want_ this?" He asked quietly, nearly amused at the idea. "Want? Oh pet,” he said, shaking his head, “when were we ever concerned with what you want?"

“It’s not what I meant. I only thought you…we…I’m sorry sir...I'm sorry...Kylo..." 

Her heart dropped to her stomach as she watched the gears turning in his mind. His ire was up and he needed a way to expend the energy that crackled through him, an energy that she easily felt now, as if the two of them were linked, the same blood running in their veins. Her impertinence would be harshly punished; all of the intimacy and the tentative connection they'd built in the last month quickly torn away because she'd become an obstacle instead of his willing plaything. She’d promised him her submission and now she'd threatened to take it back. 

"Please sir," she said, rushing forward to press her hands to his naked skin. She kissed his breast bone, his stomach, the dark trail of hair below his navel all before going to her knees, bowing before him with reverence. "I'm not rejecting you. I will...I will take your hand, I will do what you ask….but not like this, not when you’re…”

Without his instruction she took his length deep into her mouth. It was her only way to appease his fury, sucking furiously, almost obscenely, her hands on his hips as she bobbed over his length. In only a couple of weeks she’d been able to take him completely, his prick nestled deep in her open throat, and he was always pleased with her performance. But now, with a groan of frustration he pushed her off, hard enough that she stumbled back, sprawling over the stone floor. Overwhelmed with humiliation she wiped her drooling wet mouth on the back of her arm and crawled back to his feet.

“Don’t come groveling for forgiveness after you’ve rejected my very gracious offer,” he growled, pouring himself a goblet of wine that he drank messily, a stream of blood red trickling over his chin and down his throat. “Ungrateful little scavenger,” he muttered under his breath.

She righted herself, surprised to feel tears stinging the corners of her eyes as she’d given up crying in front of him only days after her arrival. Sitting back on her heels, she looked up at him for direction, punishment, anything to ease the suffocating tension that pressed in from all sides. He stalked towards her, the goblet dangling from his long fingers, somehow looking even more menacing when he was naked: primitive and hungry. Once in front of her he only stared, sneering down at her cowering form. With one hand in her hair he tugged her head backwards, forcing her to look up at him.

“Tell me little one, do you feel it now?” he asked, “bubbling beneath the surface? Chaotic, like a swarm of wasps?”

She did. In the pit of her stomach she could feel a crackling energy; a small, building storm radiating outward, yet she couldn’t place what emotion drove its existence as a dozen different feelings battled for her attention. Still, she nodded at him, hoping this admission would be enough. Catching his eye she dared to lock in to his stare. 

_Don’t deny me. Don’t defy me, Rey. Don’t fight me._

Her heart beat faster, her pulse almost painful, an ache throughout her body, but still she dug deeper.

_You’re all I have._

He shook his head and snarled, pulling her up by the elbow, tossing the goblet aside, the iron rattling over the stone floor. She stumbled backwards and he pushed her onto the bed.

“Don’t go digging in dark places, little one. You won’t like what you find.”

“Kylo,” she said, doing her best to calm herself, “I’m not going to leave you.”

For a fleeting moment his face softened, his eyes, once sharp and dark, softened at the corners. Rey snaked an arm up around his neck and pulled his face down to hers, peppering feather light kisses over his cheeks and temples as he lowered himself onto her. She met his mouth and slipped her tongue between his lips, her fingertips running over the rough scars on his back as they kissed, his cock nudging between her legs. He pushed inside her, fast and rough and she arched her back, pressing into him as he thrust deep, his tongue still tangling with hers. An image flashed in her mind, an illustration from the book he’d given her. She disentangled herself and pushed at his chest, moving to sit. Still he bucked against her, chasing her kiss as she tried to hold his gaze.

_Let me_, she thought, staring deep into his eyes. _Let me take care of you_.

Kylo slipped from between her legs and she moved to push him onto his back, his chiseled body laid out on the thick layer of furs as she straddled his hips. His hands moved to her breasts, thumbing her hardened nipples as she communicated with him silently.

_I’m here to take care of you. I’m yours._

Rey lowered herself, sliding down the thick length of his cock, moaning at the slow, aching stretch, grinding against his pelvis.

“Yes. take me, girl,” he growled, moving to grip her hips as he thrust up into her. “Take all of me inside you.”

This was new to him, this loss of control, but it was perfect being able to see all of her, to watch her fuck. And she was…a goddess: writhing and arching, pulling her own pleasure from his body. A flush bloomed across her creamy skin, her mouth fallen open as her hips rolled. As her pace increased, she dragged her fingernails down the length of his torso, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. Kylo closed his eyes to feel the energy that thrummed in the air between them. He felt her.

She wanted him. She wanted everything he gave her. But still she was afraid. Lonely, confused and afraid. Not just of him, but of what lay ahead for her. She was afraid of the unknown. 

He held tight and moved to sit up, holding her tiny body in place as he took her plump pink nipple into his mouth, one hand sliding up into her hair. She wrapped her legs around his hips and continued to rock into him, their bodies entirely entwined as she panted hot breath over his shoulder. He could feel her walls clenching him, milking him. She trembled in his his arms, growling through clenched teeth. 

“I like to watch your face,” she breathed, reaching up to his cheeks, framing his face with her delicate hands. “You look different when you…ah…”

Her head fell back, and the words evaporated as his thumb moved between her legs, brushing over the hard bundle of nerves hidden within her slick lips. 

“And now you can feel it,” he said, his thrusts faster, not quite as deep, his voice breathy, strained. “Close your eyes and you’ll feel what I feel when I empty inside you, your walls pulling me deeper, the silky heat of your cunt.”

“Gods please,” she sunk her nails into his shoulders. “I’m…I…” her forehead resting in the crook of his neck.

“Yes girl,” he breathed, pressing harder against her clit, her thighs trembling and squeezing his waist. “Come for me. Look, look up into my eyes and we’ll feel it together.”

Her body was warm, throbbing with every pulse of her heart as he brought her closer, while he groaned in agony as he tried to hold off. He wouldn’t do it without her, he wanted her with him. Finally she pulled back and looked into his eyes, her pupils blown wide, mouth fallen open as her insides twitched and clenched around his cock. She was sure that her heart would explode with ecstasy when she felt his climax building, when the power of his orgasm blending with hers set every nerve ending alight. Kylo growled and held her tight to his hips, emptying deep inside, his forehead pressed to hers, their bodies slick with a sheen of sweat.

“Kylo…” she breathed. “My god…that…”

For a moment he said nothing, only held her, feeling her pulse finally slow beneath his fingertips; smiling at the way she whimpered and sighed in his arms, limp, spent, clinging to him like a vine. 

“Such a good girl,” he finally crooned, stroking her hair. “And so daring, trying new things.”

“Thank you sir,” she said, tipping her face up to kiss him.

They sat on the bed, legs still knotted together, Kylo still buried inside her and he looked at her, his prize, running his fingers over the jewels in her collar, the stones that glittered on her bracelets, the diamond and ruby arm band closed tight around her left biceps. Even the shackle on her ankle had changed, now a thin polished band decorated with fine cut black gems. He could sense her restlessness, confusion at his silence and stillness, when in truth it was how he spent the greater part of his life. When not with her he sat in meditation or study, anything to free him somehow from darkness where he was entombed.

He stood, lifting her easily in his arms, and set her on her feet, kissing the crown of her head. 

“Go clean yourself,” he said, stepping away from her. “I’ll get food and wine.”

She bowed and moved to the alcove beside her bedroom, relieving herself before splashing cool water on her face and between her legs. As she unbraided her hair, letting it fall in loose waves down her back she listened for his return, waiting for his demands. Would he take her again? Punish her for daring to mount him as if she were the predator? The alpha? Or would he simply bring her a platter of food and more wine and leave her again, alone in the dark with her mind. Her mind that had strengths and abilities she’d never known, never felt, suddenly rushing to the forefront, demanding attention. Reaching for her hairbrush she saw her hands shaking. It was as if she were a new person, a stranger to herself, but for some reason Kylo, her captor, knew everything about her, could see right through the fear, could see the hidden Rey. In fact, he’d drawn the real Rey out, mined like one of the jewels hidden in the rocks of the maze. 

“Are you finished?” He called from the other room. 

She quickly dragged her fingers through her damp hair and went back to the bedroom. He was pouring wine for both of them, a platter of cheese and bread, dried apricots and figs on the table beside him. Still he was nude, the scars on his back on full display. Feeling a bit brave, Rey walked up behind him and ran her finger along the longest, deepest scar. He immediately tensed beneath her touch, a hiss escaping his clenched jaw.

“Eat,” he said, not looking at her, the single word clipped and quiet. 

“Will you tell me what these are from? How you…”

“Not today. Eat.”

  
He was nearly silent after that, but watched her carefully as they sat on the floor in front of the small fireplace, his eyes following the food to her open mouth, watching the drop of wine hang from her bottom lip until her tongue flicked out to catch it. She ate voraciously, with no shame or self consciousness, not at all like the ladies at court he remembered, so prim and tight, their noses in the air. She moaned appreciation at the flavors, licked the crumbs and sticky apricot from her fingers, tore at the crusty bread with her teeth like a beast. He liked it.

“Come here,” he said, setting his food aside, filled with a sudden urge. 

She looked up, panicked, and immediately moved to stand beside him. He ran a hand up the outside of her thigh and over her ass, grinning at the way her eyelids fluttered, her hands clenched into fists. With a kiss to her hip bone he nodded and said,

“Sit.” 

She cautiously folded down in front of him, her legs tucked up beneath her and he leaned in for another kiss, tasting the wine and fruit on her tongue. As the kiss deepened she moved closer holding herself up on her hands as he held her face, licking deep into her open mouth. Then suddenly and without warning, he reached out and squeezed just below her ribs, tickling her mercilessly until she could fight it no longer and burst out into laughter, her mouth wide, eyes glittering. She breathlessly begged him for relief, pushing at his chest. He stopped and sighed and let her go. It was just as he’d imagined. She was raw and open and full of life and for a moment he felt a twinge of guilt at keeping such a vibrant flower buried in the dirt. 

But he was also possessive and selfish, infected with a need to stain others with his own darkness. She’d given herself to him and she would suffer for it. He'd warned her of it the day she first knelt at his feet.

“Wh-why did you do that?” She asked, still sitting close, but looking less afraid than before.

Kylo shrugged and stood, picking up the platter and jug of wine from the floor. It would sound strange and unbelievable to tell her that he just wanted to hear her laugh, to hear what she might have sounded like a year ago, back before she knew her destiny, before she’d been publicly branded, sacrificed, before she’d been buried alive. He'd seen her force a smile for him, pretend to be happy or pleased, but this had been different. It had been real.

He’d looked very different when he tickled her. For a brief moment she could see the boy that had been locked into this dungeon, the hint of a genuine smile on his face, not a grin born of scheming or sarcasm. After their meal she felt herself growing drowsy. There was no way to know if it was day or night and usually she found herself living like a housecat, napping and lounging, stretching out when and wherever her body told her to rest. But he was still there, flipping through books, pouring another goblet of wine. It kept her on edge, wondering what else he would want from her. Her body was sore and well used, her mind weary and she wasn’t sure what else she could take. A yawn escaped and she quickly clamped her hand over her mouth, expecting an instant reprimand.

“Lay down,” he said, his broad back to her as he looked for something on one of the bookshelves. “I’m sure you’re depleted, little one.”

Without hesitation she moved to the bed and climbed beneath the furs, curling on her side. A moment later the weight on the bed changed and she heard him sigh, sliding beneath the furs beside her, his leg brushing up against hers. He was sitting, flipping through a book on ancient philosophy. She opened her eyes and turned to face him. 

“Sleep,” he said, not looking up from his book. “I can feel the exhaustion down to your bones.”

“Y-yes sir,” she said, closing her eyes.

He didn’t invite her into his arms. He didn’t stroke her hair or curl up against her. He didn’t say another word; the only sounds in the room the crackling fire and the pages of his book turning. Before long it became difficult to focus, her mind melting into tranquil rest and her body not far behind.

And he stayed.


	6. The Black Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Particularly for this chapter I remind you to heed the tags. I've updated for a few but if you don't want spoilers just know there will be some excessive roughness here. Thanks!

She woke later and the lamps were out, the dying fire low and crackling. Kylo was asleep on his side, facing away from her, his broad back like a warm wall. As he slept she ran her fingers over the scars cut deep into his pale flesh. She had seen markings like these before on slaves and prisoners: straight lines, deep, permanent, like bolts of lightning in every direction. Whips: the biting sting of black leather. He didn’t move when she touched him, and so she leaned in to press her lips to the marred skin, resting her forehead between his shoulder blades. His whole body radiated a comforting heat and she was soon sleepy again, tucked tight against his back. 

He’d felt her touch and bit his tongue, not allowing himself to ruin this silent moment of tenderness. Focusing in on her mind he felt no fear or anger, only sadness, sympathy. Pity. Her lips were warm and soft and he longed to pull her into his arms, to hold her in the dark, thank her for her act of kindness. He wanted to kiss her again, feel her hips grinding over his as she looked down at him with reverence, a glow in her eyes. A connection. But the guidance he'd received in his meditations had taught him that kind, gentle intimacy brought nothing but weakness, a loss of focus. He was meant to indulge his darkest passions, his physical needs and basest instincts, not cede to hers. Taking was how one gained power. Giving was how they lost it. Asking her name, kissing her mouth, sharing her bed, these were already failures he needed to rectify. So he made no move when she attempted to reach out to him. Instead he waited until he could feel that she was sleeping again, and before she woke he crept away. 

“Stand up.”

She was woken by his insistent growl and disappointed to find that instead of lying beside her he was fully dressed and standing at the foot of her bed. His face was stony, eyes dark and empty, and she knew better than to hesitate. Scrambling to her feet, she smoothed her hair and shook her head clear to fully wake up before moving to stand in front of him, head bowed, hands folded behind her back.

“Look at me.”

She did as she was told, looking right into his eyes. She was no longer afraid of him, but these eyes were different from the eyes that looked into her the night before, that stared into her soul as he came inside her, that glittered and nearly smiled when he tickled her on the floor. These eyes were cold, she saw nothing behind them. 

“You asked me about my scars,” he said, moving a step closer. “They do seem to fascinate you so. But if you want the answer, you’ll have to find it yourself.”

“I..I asked you and you…”

He held his hand up. She noticed he was wearing his black gloves again, another way to keep his distance from her. Now he was the dark prince she’d met the day she was thrown into this pit. When she stopped talking he reached his hand out, only inches from her face, and closed his eyes. It was warm at first, nearly too warm, and then she felt him, digging through her mind, a strange pressure, like being massaged from within, a thumb running over every nerve ending. He filtered through recent memories and she saw them, jumbled together, a tangled knot in her minds’ eye. 

“Are there things in here you don’t want me to see, dove?” He asked, still digging, quickly rifling through her thoughts and feelings like they were pages in a boring book.

“I…”

“Secret things, hidden feelings…” he paused for a moment on something and she saw his wicked smile, his eyes still closed. “…fantasies?”

“Stop!”

His eyes snapped open, but she could still feel him, the pressure, the heat. His fingers curled, almost to a fist. 

“You have to stop me yourself, pet. Close me out if you want me gone.” He leaned in and she could smell leather and the spicy musk of his soap. “But I must tell you, I’ve already seen quite a bit.”

“Please…” she said, lifting her hand to touch him, but he quickly moved away and froze her body in place. There was nothing about her that she could control. He may as well have her bound in rope from neck to ankle.

“Maybe later, dove,” he purred. “after.”

He drilled down into her thoughts again, deeper back to the years before she knew she’d be sacrificed, the years she spent with Leia, learning…training.

“Stop me,” he growled. “Don’t let me see these things.”

“I can’t! I don’t know how!” 

But even as she said it she could feel that buzzing in her blood again, a ball of lightning drawing on her frustration, growing in her belly. 

“Do it. Stop me from taking everything from you. I will strip every secret from your mind, every feeling, every need, every tear unless you push back with all of your strength, unless you put up a wall to fight me.”

Tears stung her eyes as he all but laughed in her face. Deep down she knew that he did it not to mock her, but to push her into action. But no one had ever told her how. She’d never had a moment’s training in controlling the force. 

His fingers curled tighter, almost into a fist and his lips curled into a snarl, eyes open but narrowed, burning into hers. As his focus returned to her mind, she could move her body again and slowly shifted backwards.

“I can take whatever I want," he said. "You gave me your body so easily, I didn’t think you would do the same with your deepest thoughts.”

“No,” she said, through gritted teeth, stepping back again, trying to break his stare. “I won't! Stop!”

Of all the things he’d taken from her, she’d vowed from the beginning that he would never take her mind. He would never drive her to madness. She’d promised herself that from the start. The energy within her turned red between her eyes, her jaw pulsing with tension, every muscle flexed. 

“You can feel it,” he growled. “You know it. If you don’t do anything I will destroy you.”

His eyes lost a bit of their fire and she knew, somehow, that he wasn’t only talking about the force, or this haphazard training he was putting her through. He knew that the longer she stayed with him, she would fall to pieces. He was her mirror. The longer she stayed in this labyrinth, the faster she would adapt to the darkness. She felt her own fingers curling. If she wanted to she could throw him across the room. Somehow she knew it. She could break his arm, make him bleed, strangle him…

“You could do it….yes…” he said, his smile nearly manic. “Try, little girl. Try to hurt me.”

She turned her head from him and walked away, as far as her chain would allow. Kylo chased after her, pinning her to the stone wall, his huge hands pinning her in on either side. As hard as she tried to avoid his gaze, he easily grabbed it, ducking down, tipping his head, catching her eyes and locking on. Energy sparked between them, both of them nearly gasping for breath as the force fought for dominance. His eyes flicked down to her parted, gasping lips and he captured her mouth in a kiss, his hips pressing into hers, the cold stone scratching her naked back. Instead of fighting, she wrapped her leg around his, slipping her arms around his neck. But instead of a deeper, harder kiss, he sunk his teeth into her lip, pulling until she whimpered, tasting blood on her tongue. 

Kylo pulled her arms away and pinned them to the wall, moving to suck at the skin just below her jaw, scraping his teeth and biting the tender flesh. She cried out in pain and he chuckled.

“Stop! Please!” 

She tried to free herself, but he easily held both of her wrists in one hand, the other moving to pinch her nipple, twisting it until there were tears in her eyes. This was different from the usual rough, passionate sex that he gave her. This was intended as a punishment.

“Stop me yourself,” he hissed, biting her neck again. “An eye for an eye. Hurt me, pet. Make me bleed.”

_There was still light in him_.

As she thought the words he growled, driving his knee up between her legs, pushing her up the wall. She nearly screamed as the stone dragged over her skin.

“There’s no place for light,” he said, bending down to bite the tender flesh of her breast. “There’s no power in the light, no strength in the light. Everything is exposed, everything vulnerable. There’s no light here.”

She shook her head through her pain and closed her eyes. A black, solid wall, surrounding her mind. She put all of her energy behind the illusion, assigning the wall strength, heft, the shine of impenetrable obsidian.

“Yesss…there’s your armor,” he nearly groaned, working his thick thigh up between her legs, sending shocks of arousal to her belly. 

Even in his focused anger she could feel the hard length of his erection pressing into her hip. Their combined fire was forging a passion that she suddenly needed, thirsted for. He let go of her wrists and she clung to his neck, her fingertips sunk into his hair, tugging him to her lips. Their kiss was wet, voracious and lust bloomed in her belly until his gloved fingers reached between them and pinched her swollen, sensitive clit. Instead of crying out in pain, however, she growled, a low, angry rumble in his ear. Had she not shown him she could do it?

“Go on,” he said, “Give in. Fight me. Push me away, take your revenge for the pain I’ve caused you.” 

His words were quieter, pleading almost, but she wouldn’t give him what he wanted.

_There was still light in him._ Leia had seen it, she had seen it, and she would not let him drag her down into the muck. She would not resort to the same violence. Hurting him would do nothing but feed his pain and the cycle between them would never end. 

“No,” she said, “I won’t hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh little dove, how loyal,” he cooed, “do you think I’ll have mercy on you if you’re kind?”

“No,” she said, looking up, looking deep…

Her breath rushed from her lungs as she saw quick flashes of a dark haired toddler crying in his mother’s arms, a young boy breaking a goblet, begging for forgiveness. And then she saw a young man, alone in a cold room, his knees brought to his chest as he sat against a stone wall…tears streaming down his face. 

“I won’t hurt you,” she said, taking his face in her hands, “because you’ve already been hurt enough.”

His icy confidence faltered and he tried to pull away from her, his leg sliding away, letting her back down to her feet; but she wouldn’t let him go, her thumb brushing over his trembling lip. It was subtle but she felt him lean in to her touch, his head tipped down, his eyes searching hers warily. 

“I don’t want revenge. I don’t want darkness,” she said, pulling him closer, suckling at his pouting lip before kissing him. There were other ways to win this battle. Between the bond they shared she could feel him calming, his heart slowing as the rage drained from him, so she continued her quiet ministrations. “I don’t need the power or the force….I need you.”

Rey slid her hand down the front of his black tunic to the waistband of his trousers.

“Please,” she whispered. 

What started as a ploy to distract him had reignited the need she’d felt for him only moments earlier and she stroked his length through the rough fabric. He kissed her mouth, tangling his hand into her hair before moving to tug at the chain hanging down her back.

“Get on your knees,” he said, his wet lips touching her ear. “I’ll give you what you need.”

With a nod of submission she sunk to the floor in front of him and reached for the laces of his trousers, pulling his thick cock free of their tight confines. He’d told her many times in the past weeks that her skills with her mouth had grown by leaps and bounds, how proud of her he was that she could take so much of his length, had mastered the slow, sucking strokes that he liked, eagerly swallowing every drop. But instead of praising her now, he held fast to the back of her neck and drove deep into her mouth with one punishing thrust. She was sure she would vomit on him, drool spilling from the corners of her lips, but he was unrelenting, pushing hard into her throat, his hand moving to grip the iron of her collar, pulling backward until she couldn’t breathe at all. She dug her fingers into his legs, looking up into his frowning face. For a moment she saw the mask falter, his lip tremble, but as soon as it appeared, it passed and he pulled away just before she lost consciousness. 

“Kylo…” she sputtered, wiping her mouth.

He grabbed her hair at the root, snapping her neck back.

“Be quiet. Don’t move.” He stroked himself, rough, fast. She attempted to touch him, to reach out, but he slapped her hand away. “I said don’t move, girl.” 

“I don’t…I don’t understand…”

“Do you think I don’t know? That I don’t see what you’re doing?” His hand moved faster and he groaned with his approaching climax, a peak he couldn’t hold off. “You think I’ve…never seen it before?”

She opened her mouth to speak but before she could get the words out he stuck two thick fingers between her teeth to hold her open, the black leather acrid and salty on her tongue. With a final growl of relief he came, the warm ropes of his seed covering her lips, coating her tongue. It dripped down over her chin, between her breasts and finally he let her go, wiping his hand on her throat before stumbling backward, shaking his head clear as if emerging from a trance. 

Rey watched him compose himself, lace up his trousers, and run a hand through his hair. Still he was breathing hard, his cheeks red, and she could feel…frustration…coming off of him in waves. A conflict of emotions, not the least of which was shame. When he sensed her probing he quickly shut her out, a black wall just like the one she’d erected in her mind, cutting her off. 

“I’m…I…” he started, but quickly stopped himself.

“I wasn’t lying to you, sir,” she said, carefully standing, daring to walk closer. “I wasn’t trying to trick you. I was trying to calm you. I don’t want to fight. I told you I don’t want to hurt you.”

His lip curled into a snarl and he turned away from her.

“Don’t wash yourself,” he said when he finally looked back.”Wear me on your skin all day, sticky, stinking come drying on your skin, do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” she said, stepping back, bowing her head. 

He had expected her to protest, to push back, to ask why. He’d expected her to use the power he’d found buried inside her, but she wouldn’t. She refused, and it enraged him.

Kylo walked to the door and extinguished the lamps, leaving her only with the embers of the dying fire in her little cave. 

“I didn't want to...I shouldn't..." he said softly before nearly crying out, "Don’t you understand?” He wouldn't turn to look at her. “When you’re in the darkness, you need to fight with darkness, because it swallows up all the light. I’m trying to teach you how to control it. You only need a teacher, to show you the true power of the force.” He paused but she didn’t dare speak, didn’t dare protest. “The longer you resist…the longer you’ll be trapped here…with me.”


	7. Adorning The Temple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New tags have been added. This chapter includes body modification (piercing)

She did as he asked, laying on the furs and staring at the tattered fabric that made up the canopy of her bed. She was exhausted and sore, her throat aching, pain throbbing at her temples and between her legs. The trails and drops of his seed and sweat quickly dried on her skin and just as she suspected he wanted, she felt dirty. She felt used and stained, her skin tight and itching. So odd that she’d been with him for months but only now did she feel like he truly wanted to punish her, to make her feel badly for something she’d done, something that had hurt him.

But she just couldn’t figure out what it was.

As she went over the events of the last few hours she thought of the sadness in his eyes that he'd tried so hard to disguise, his stubborn resolve to live a life in a darkness and squash out the last remnants of light and he was determined to take her with him. The more she focused, closing her eyes, her hand on her heart, the more she could picture him…alone…sad.

And then, in a blink, she could see him. It was as if he were with her, but she saw him in a room not unlike her own. It was spacious but still dark and windowless, cluttered with oil lamps and shelves filled with books, tables covered in scrolls of paper, writings, drawings, pots of ink and pens. The fireplace roared, a colorful painting of the palace gardens displayed above it. The walls of the room were covered with swaths of wine colored fabrics, satin and velvet, the floor covered in furs. He lay in his bed, his eyes wide open, staring at nothing. There was no canopy above his bed, but the ceiling had been painted a deep, glowing gold with a delicate pattern of black lines cut into the stone; not hieroglyphs or letters but curves and swirls like the parallel trails of identical rivers. Dark draperies hung from iron rods on either side of the bed and it was as if he were closed into a womb, soft and warm, somewhere safe.

“Can you see me?” He asked quietly, his fingertips tracing over his stomach, one hand behind his head. “I can see you.”

“Y…yes…” she said, unsure of what was happening, but no longer surprised by anything the force chose to show her or how. She took the silence as a chance to try and sense his feelings and concluded “You’re angry with me.”

“No,” he said, turning his head to the side, his eyes focused somewhere on his shelf of books. “Not with you, pet.”

She was beautiful laid out on her bed, her hair fanned out over the dark, thick furs, her topaz eyes like crystals in the firelight. He hadn’t given her a gift in days and seeing her body stretched out before him, her creamy skin stained with bruises and the dried remnants of his...loss of control...made him want to rectify it. Through their bond he felt her shivering. 

“You can clean yourself,” he said, getting out of bed and moving to his table where he wrote messages to the palace. 

Watching him move was like seeing a wolf in the woods, pacing as it waited for some unwitting prey. She was mesmerized again by the scars on his back, but before she could open her mouth to ask him anything he shook his head.

“I’m tired pet. So are you. Wash yourself and get some sleep." He sat and dipped his pen into a pot of ink. As he began to write he let out a long, tortured sigh. "Our sentence ticks on.”

She wanted to respond, offer to serve him, ask him to hold her, to come back...but he’d put up the wall instantly and once again she was alone.

She woke to the rattling of her chain, a weight lifted from her ankle. He’d…freed her. Before she could jump from the bed, however, his hand shot out, fingers curled in like claws, and she was frozen in place, seated on the edge of the bed with her feet firmly on the floor, legs wide, head tipped back. She was wholly exposed. He was barefoot, wearing only his black leather trousers with black braces that crossed over his back. She'd come to learn that he wore these things when he was training with his swords and blades; heavy leather with protective braces and guards. His hair was damp as if he'd been working.

“Look how quickly she tries to run,” he said, stepping closer. 

He bent down and nuzzled her neck, sucked a bruise into the soft skin of her throat while she whined, her body responding instantly to his touch, his smell, just the sensation of him being near. 

“N…no. I was only surprised. You woke me,” she said. “Where would I run, Kylo? Like you said, I’m trapped in here with you…no sense in getting lost in the maze of cold caverns.”

“Smart girl,” he said, his hand moving to cup her breast, thumb and forefinger teasing the nipple to a hardened bud. “I’ve brought you something. Another…decoration,” he said, plucking the nipple a bit harder, twisting and pulling until it ached. “And if you’re a good girl for me,” he whispered, his other hand sinking between the slick lips of her pussy, “I’ll take you somewhere new as a reward.”

Still she was frozen as his hands ran over her body, hitting every spot that drove her to the edge of ecstasy. He’d learned the secrets of her arousal within days of her arrival; a rare feat that he hadn't accomplished with previous pets who fought and hid and wouldn't allow themselves the pleasure of his touch. They weren't only the obvious - her wet, swollen clit or her tender pink nipples. There were secret places that made her shiver, gooseflesh rising on her arms, a moan of contentment escaping her lips. So now he knew to stroke the back of her neck, to lick and nibble at the soft flesh behind her ear. He kissed the soft bump of her hip bone, ran his tongue over the hollow at the crease of her thigh. Within minutes her body trembled, tears in her eyes as the stimulation reached nearly painful levels, a string pulled so taut it would either sing or snap with the next touch. He loved to hear her beg and she felt no shame anymore…not for anything.

“Please sir,” she whined, her breaths short and shallow as his tongue dipped into her navel. “I need you so badly. Please…”

“Ohhh little one you know how I love to hear that. Do you want to come?” He asked, moving back between her legs to bless her with one swipe of his tongue, nothing but a tease, feather light and lightning quick. 

“Please yes, please let me come. Please.” 

Her eyelids fluttered as her face flushed red. It was the perfect time. 

He stood up, releasing his hold on her for a moment. She went limp and languid, rolling her hips, craning her neck, but he stood between her legs, not allowing her to close them, to find some sort of friction, release. As she caught her breath, attempting to focus on what he wanted, he reached for a small black pouch on her bedside table. This was different from the usual gifts he gave her, the jewelry presented in satin lined boxes with hand written notes. 

“Hold out your hand,” he said. “You’ll get your pretty gift.”

She did as he asked, her blood still pounding through her veins, her core pulsing with arousal, aching for his touch. 

“You’ll get that too. For now, just do as I say, pet. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

He opened the pouch and placed a long metal spike in her hand…not unlike one of the needles that she’d seen ladies using for knitting. She said nothing, but he chuckled at the obvious confusion on her face. 

“Your body is my temple,” he said, putting two other things in her palm, shining silver rings, each holding a blood red garnet that dangled from the bottom. “And I want to adorn it…all parts of it.”

As he moved to caress her nipples again, his intentions became clear and she started to shake, her stomach roiling with nausea. Even though most of the girls her age had gotten various piercings in preparation for their weddings Rey had never wanted to endure it. She’d seen the agony slaves went through having the cartilage of their upper ears tagged with iron rings and couldn’t imagine suffering through such torture.

“Oh please. Gods please don’t do this Kylo,” she was crying but his face was blank, calm. He licked his bottom lip and bent forward to kiss her forehead.

“Shhh,” he crooned against her skin, picking up the needle from her palm. “What did I tell you about being a good girl for me?”

She expected to feel him stab at her, the point digging into her breast, but instead he moved to slip his hand between her legs again, the pads of his fingers circling her clit, sliding two deep inside. Her hand closed tight around the silver rings in her hand as her cunt clenched around him, a gasp escaping her lips.

“Will you come for me good girl? Are you going to come? Help me make you come, touch yourself with me.”

She did as he asked, her empty hand moving to circle her clit as he thrust deep, his longest finger crooked forward, pressing against the front wall of her channel.

"Someday I want to watch you,' he purred in her ear. "I want to sit and stare at your dripping pussy while you fuck your own hand, coming all over your fingers and licking them clean." 

“Oh god yes, please!” She cried out, bucking against he heel of her hand as her whole body shook, the waves of her orgasm starting to wash over her.

In an instant his fingers were gone and while she rocked her hips to ride out her climax, he pulled her nipple taut and drove the needle through. She screamed, unable to distinguish the difference between agony and bliss as endorphins flooded her system, her mind nearly wiped clean as a thousand feelings overwhelmed her. As she started to come down he slipped the ring in behind the needle, twisting it so the jewel hung below.

“Beautiful girl,” he murmured, bending down to lick at the drop of blood that ran down the underside of her breast. “One more.”

“Kylo please…no please…” she was panicked, nearly exhausted from the storm of emotions that had run through her, sweat prickling on the back of her neck. She couldn’t do it again. “It…it hurts. Please.”

When he looked up she could see sympathy in his eyes, but behind it was determination, lust, power. She was his to do with what he wanted and this was how he would prove it. Her pleas would fall on deaf ears. 

_You’ll be rewarded, pet. For your bravery._

He spoke to her through their bond, through the Force, and she closed her eyes as he moved to her other breast, needle in hand.

_I’m afraid._

“In my studies and meditations I have learned valuable lessons, little Rey,” he said, thumbing the soft pink peak, circling it with the tip of his finger, bringing it to life. “And now I’ll teach them to you. You mustn’t give in to fear. Don’t let it take root. Fear leads to anger, anger and suffering.” He bent down and kissed her mouth, his tongue warm and coppery with her blood. “And we’ve had enough suffering.”

He drove the needle through her nipple and swallowed her scream with a kiss, his hand firm on the back of her neck as he sealed their mouths together. When he broke away she went limp in his arms, her face pale, a sheen of sweat on her forehead. The ecstasy of her orgasm was long forgotten, replaced by the hot, stinging pain of her new piercings. She whimpered as he ran the ring through and closed it but strangely, the pain from the first wound was already fading, replaced by the unique sensation of the weight of the ring pulling at her sensitive skin. When he was finished he kissed each newly bejeweled breast, gently sucking at the highly sensitive nipples.

Kylo stepped back and smiled, admiring his work. She could barely stand, but he took her in his arms and kissed the crown of her head. 

“Such a good little pet, behaving so nicely. So brave,” he soothed, whispering into her hair. “I’m so proud of you my…”

She felt him stiffen, biting back words. He blocked her from his mind with practiced ease and she pulled herself away from him.

“Come,” he said, walking towards the door of her chamber, the room she hadn’t left since she woke up in the bed there the day of her arrival. 

She hesitated, wondering if he was testing her, tricking her, but after a moment he held out his hand.

“Come here Rey,” he repeated, the slightest edge of a command in his voice. “I told you that you would be rewarded.”


	8. The Blossoming Darkness

  
They walked forever, or what seemed like it to Rey with her bare feet and naked body, shivering in the damp cold of the labyrinth. Kylo was a few paces ahead of her, his gait long and quick, his broad, muscled body taking up most of the corridor. His black leather trousers were unlaced, hanging low on his narrow hips and he ran his fingers over the stone walls as they walked. Both of them had become so accustomed to the dark that only the tiniest glow of a small fire a few yards ahead was enough to light their way.

“Do you know the whole maze?” She asked, wrapping her arms around herself as they trudged forward. “Are there more rooms besides ours?”

“There aren’t many. The tunnels run beneath most of the kingdom and the palace but I stay in the center where I’ve made my sanctuary. There are places I go to meditate or...train...but aside from the sleeping chambers and the baths it’s mostly just a cavern of twisted corridors, designed to confuse and isolate.”

“The baths?”

Reaching back, he took her hand and pulled her toward the dim glow. As they walked the atmosphere became heavier, warmer, the jagged rock walls of the underground dungeons sparkling with light. Steam hissed somewhere in the distance and her vision was blurred as the air fogged around her. Rounding the last corner they arrived in a vast room with a low, domed ceiling glittering with veins of raw metals and exposed gems. The floor was polished smooth and in the center, a wide round bath, deep enough that it looked inky black even though the room was warmly lit with crackling oil lamps that hung from iron chains.

Rey was speechless, in awe at the serenity and beauty of the bath; soothed by the tiny sounds of the fires and gently lapping water. Along the edge of the pool near the entry steps were jars of oil and cakes of soap, brushes and sponges ready and waiting. 

“Come on, little dove,” he said, pulling her further into the room, “I know you’re sore.”

She stood beside him in silence as he quickly unlaced and pulled off his trousers, expecting him to immediately sink into the bath. Instead he turned to her, and while he wasn’t smiling, she could see a different sort of familiar warmth in his eyes, glowing nearly gold in the low lamplight. He reached down and carefully removed the tight metal choker from around her neck, setting it aside. Next he moved to the heavy bracelets and upper arm cuff before going to his knees in front of her and opening the clasp on the jeweled anklet on her left foot. His movements were gentle and methodical and when the jewelry was removed he would run his fingers over her bare skin as if it were just as precious and beautiful as the diamonds and garnets that had adorned it. When she was free of all but her new piercings he leaned forward to kiss her just below her navel, then the bones of her hips before burying his nose in the tangle of dark hair between her thighs. Rey ran her fingers through his thick hair and he looked up, his face nearly childlike with expectation. 

“Shall we…shall we get in?” She asked, tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear before letting one finger trace along the angle of his jaw. 

Nodding in agreement he took her hand and stepped in, his body disappearing into the shadowy water, deep enough that he was submerged almost to his shoulders. She walked down the smooth, carved stairs, nearly groaning at the feel of the hot spring water surrounding her body with every sinking step. When the last step was too deep, Kylo swept her into his arms and pulled her over to the far side of the pool where a ledge would allow them to sit and relax, leaning against the wall. Following his lead she settled onto the makeshift bench and leant back, stretching her legs out in front her and closing her eyes. The water stung her newly sensitive breasts and she bit her tongue to keep from whining at the pain but he could sense it, feel the tension in her body beside his.

“Give it a few minutes and you’ll feel better,” he said, reaching back to pour a bottle of scented oil into the bath. “I come here after training with my weapons or when I can’t sleep. I’ve found that some of these scents help to clear my mind.”

“It’s wonderful, thank you,” she said with a sigh. 

"Tell me when you want to come back here. You're free to use it whenever you like. These rooms are yours as much as mine now."

"That's very kind, Kylo."

If she understood the depth of his gift, what it meant to give her freedom in the maze, she made no indication of it. Still it was nice to hear her at peace, her voice lilting and even. Most of their conversations began with pleading or crying, ended with arguments or anger. But here she was, doing nothing more than enjoying his company, or at least…tolerating it and he wanted it to go on forever.

The water wrapped around her like a cocoon, loosening and soothing her perpetually tired muscles; lapping at her bruised skin, the bite marks and scratches from his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass or her stomach. The bottoms of her feet, callused and sore, softened and warmed beneath the surface and she felt the relief down to her bones. There were no sounds but the gentle splashing of water against the sides of the bath and the hissing and popping from the fires that warmed it. Beside her, Kylo appeared asleep and when she took a chance and attempted to dip into his mind she surprised to find him in a wide green field under a bright blue sky, surrounded by waving wild flowers and flocks of birds. She was only granted a moment of that paradise before she was met with darkness as he blocked her out again. Pushing herself away from the wall she turned and knelt on the ledge so she could face his reclining form, his peaceful face, closed eyes, his wet hair slicked back and shining. 

She reached up onto the ledge and found a bottle of golden oil; spicy and warm smelling like amber and musk. It poured in a thick stream onto her palm and she smoothed it over his shoulders while he hummed his approval and turned, giving her better access to his broad back. Sitting up on her knees she rubbed the thick muscles of his shoulders, the place where she always noticed his tension building, the tight, thick tendons of his throat, the muscles of his scalp. In her years of training one of Leia’s handmaidens had taught her secrets of massage. She showed her the mystical points on the body that released and exuded energy both dark and light, the secret spots that held a man’s power and strength, but also his misery and fear. 

_He doesn’t always need you between his legs. Your touch can heal him. Touch is essential. There are people in this world that are starved for it. _

“Rey?”

She’d lost herself in the thought, her thumbs digging into the tight skin between his shoulder blades, near the bone at the top of his spine. His voice brought her back and she let her fingers trail downward, over the angry scars. She felt him stiffen, his spine straighten as she traced the lines with her fingertips, but he said nothing to stop her. Leaning in, she pressed her lips to the deepest, darkest stripe before running her tongue along the length of it and he sucked his breath in through his teeth, sitting up straight, nearly knocking her back. 

“Will you tell me now?” She asked, laying a trail of soft kisses across his back. “I’ve done everything you asked. You said I would be rewarded.”

He relaxed a bit under her touch but still held tension in his bones. 

“I would think a warm bath would be a reward in itself pet,” he murmured, praying that she wouldn’t stop. He knew that if he gave her something…anything…she would stay. If he showed her more, revealed any part of herself…maybe…like luring in a crow with a bit of a mirror reflecting the sun.

Kylo sighed and let his head drop forward as she continued to kiss and stroke the damp skin on his back. The cool metal rings in her nipples brushing against him were a reminder of how she’d endured every minute of his torture without once lashing out at him, not once denouncing or disobeying. It wasn’t because she was broken, it was because she was strong. 

“Look for yourself,” he said finally, “I’m tired of talking.”

She stopped then and he felt her pull away. She swam out into the center of the bath and glided back, submerged to her eyes, shining like topaz in the low light. He turned and leant against the wall of the bath and she pulled herself closer, straddling his thighs, facing him as he reclined. The bond between them was calm, open. He was going to allow it, let her dig into his mind and see the things he’d hidden from her. There would be no fight for information, no hidden motives, just an open book. Rey leaned in and kissed his mouth. Then her fingers sunk into his wet hair as she stared into his eyes. 

She was back with him in the wide open field beneath the sun. It was nearly blinding, but the air was clear and cool. Ahead of her was a sparkling stream lined with short, crooked trees, flowering in the spring. 

“The vineyard,” she said quietly.

Outside the palace at the edges of the kingdom, was a vineyard set on rolling hills, not far from the deep river than ran along the border. A small apple orchard grew near the water and she recognized it in his mind. 

“I played there as a child,” he said. “I swam in the river, climbed the trees.”

“It’s beautiful,” Rey said, still holding him, still watching the past through his eyes. “I’ve been there with your mother.”

“I’m sure,” he murmured. “It’s her favorite place to let the dogs run.”

His mind went dark and he reached up to hold her wrists, keeping them connected, forcing her to see. Now it was a picture she’d seen once before; a young boy crying, knees pulled to his chest. 

“I broke a jar,” he said. “Ten years old and I was angry at losing a game of chess to my father. Ridiculous. Meaningless, but I was young and frustrated and filled with rage. It just built and built and there was nothing I could do to stop it. When I focused my anger on the jar it shattered to pieces from across the room. A servant saw it and started screaming.”

She moved closer, her legs wrapped around his waist, her forehead pressed to his as she felt the fear and confusion he was saddled with from such a young age, regret that he never could shake.

“Father Skywalker is a priest. Have you seen him? Is he still there? He knew the Force when he saw it and told my parents immediately, told them that they needed to take action, to squash the darkness that was blooming in my soul for the good of the people. For their safety. So he tried beating it out of me.”

She could see flashes of his pain, the leather flogger dragging across his small, young back, unmarred and innocent. She saw blood on white flesh, heard the high pitched cries of a boy, not understanding his crime.

“The more he tried to keep the Force buried within me the stronger it became. It fed on my anger until I could barely contain it. I was able to open doors, hurl rocks, and every act was met with a fierce beating. My mother would cry and tend to my wounds, begging me to stop, to hide the powers I was 'cursed' with. But you’ve felt it yourself, haven’t you? Why would you hide such strength? Why bury that kind of potential? And so I started to nurture it. I flogged myself every night, whipping at my own skin until I could feel hot blood dripping down my back. Still I kept it hidden until it would be of use, a weapon of my own creation."

His arms wrapped around her, holding their bodies together as he whispered against her mouth, sharing her breath as she delved deeper into his mind. She saw the entrance to the maze, a shining, newly wrought iron gate. Kylo stood in front of it, crying, only a young man with long, lanky limbs and wide eyes, begging his mother for a reprieve. 

“Do you know why I was thrown underground?”

She saw the gate swing open like the jaws of a beast, guards dragging Kylo inside as he screamed for his mother. Beside the Queen stood a man in brown robes and a grey beard, his eyes cold and hard, a crooked smile as he watched the boy disappear into the darkness. 

“Because I learned the truth. I saw the Force in Father Skywalker. He used it in his ritual, reading minds and uncovering secrets, just as I’ve done to you. And when I saw his hypocrisy I punished him for it.”

“Kylo, you don’t have to…” 

She could feel the pressure building within him, his heart racing, his blood heating as he thought back to that day, that moment. His hands were tight on her hips, his fingers digging into her skin as he growled his words through clenched teeth.

“He whipped me until I could barely stand, calling me a heathen, a monster. My skin hung in ribbons. And when I couldn’t take it for another minute I looked up at him and I saw into his soul. I locked on his arrogant gaze and I closed his throat. Simply by lifting my hand and clenching my fist he couldn’t breathe. His eyes went wide, bugging out from his face, his mouth gaping for air. He was dying. I was killing him…”

For a few seconds he said nothing. She felt their bond humming, both of their hearts pounding in unison and then everything slowed. A sudden calm, like a cool breeze ran between them. 

“I couldn’t do it. There was still light in me then. I didn’t want to be a murderer. I wasn’t a murderer. I was just a…I was only…”

“I know Kylo…I know,” she said, stroking his face, his hair, pulling him against her chest to cradle him in the warm water. 

He nuzzled her neck, his tongue lapping at the sweat and water dripping from her skin. Beneath the surface his cock was hardening, prodding between her legs as they rocked together. 

“Kiss me,” he said, tipping his face up to hers. "I want you to kiss me."

Without hesitation Rey threaded her fingers through his damp hair and closed her lips over his, her hips rolling over his thick erection as their tongues slipped together. He moved to kiss her jaw, her neck, the hollow of her throat and she reached down between them, wrapping her hand around him to guide the head of his cock inside her. Sliding down over him until he had filled her completely pulled a groan from her lips and she felt him smile against her wet skin. 

“Go on,” he said, bucking up into her, his arms around her waist. “Take what you need, pet. I want to watch you come.”

She focused on his eyes, sparkling and warm like molten bronze, and started a slow and luxurious rhythm, her hands locked around his neck. As her hips rolled he bent to kiss her breasts, the tender flesh of her nipples, newly pierced and highly sensitive. A flick of his tongue over the hardened buds made her cry out and she moved faster, her head on his shoulder as he helped her to the edge of bliss by thrusting upward, matching each of her movements.

“Oh please…oh God Kylo, it feels...” she breathed, her body thrumming with lust, her teeth clenched as she rutted against him, reaching down to stroke her clit in hopes of going over the edge. 

Seeing her frustration and feeling her need he stood and lifted her body from the water, placing her on the edge of the bath. She fell back onto the slippery stone floor and he spread her thighs, bending down to lick at her slick, warm lips, swollen and waiting to be filled. Holding her open he suckled at the hardened pearl of her clit before dipping his tongue inside, lapping at her juices as they trickled onto his tongue. She writhed and whined, her back arching off the floor and he licked through her folds, making love to her pussy as if he were kissing her mouth. In that moment he could feel her, feel her mind reeling out of control as she tumbled toward the cliff’s edge. He sucked and kissed and stroked harder, deeper, holding her legs wide. 

“Oh fuck!” She cried, her thighs trembling in his hands as the orgasm rocked through her, her hands scrabbling for anchor on the slippery stones. “Kylo oh god, I can’t hold on…”

The force of her climax rolled through their bond like a wave and he quickly pulled back to stand and thrust his cock inside her, the walls of her cunt clenching around him instantly as he hammered against her limp and shaking form. 

“Come again,” he growled, “feel it...feel me fucking into you, pet.” 

Her ankles locked behind his hips and he pushed deep, her back scraping over the wet rocks. Still, even through the pain she felt her lust winding up again like a coiled spring, her insides pulling him deeper, the thick head of his prick stroking over the sensitive spot inside that made her wail with need every time he hit it. Just as he commanded, she dove deep into his mind and surrounded herself in the heightened, breathless arousal, the speed of his heart.

“Rey....oh God Rey...” he groaned, grinding against her clit as he buried himself to the root inside her wet heat. 

_You’re perfect. Never leave me Rey. _

_I need you with me. You’ll save me. _

_Rey. _

_Rey. I_ _ lo—_

Her body shook with a second climax as his own roar of release echoed off the walls. Her walls clenched and twitched along his shaft as he came with her, his cock pulsing as he filled her with wave after wave. Before she could even catch her breath he sunk down and pulled her back into the water, gathering her shaking frame into his lap, their bodies still joined as he held her in his giant arms. She was exhausted, sore and limp, and he let her rest against the crook of his elbow as he pulled a sponge from the ledge.

“Such a good girl,” he purred, trickling the bathwater down the length of her limbs, rubbing scented oil into her aching muscles with the pads of his thumbs. “You take everything I give you…no matter what. You were made for me.”

Her eyes fluttered closed and he squeezed the sponge over her head, wetting her hair before massaging fragrant soap into her scalp. Each movement was measured and hypnotic in the steamy silence and when he was done her whole body was tingling, warm and clean. After so long in the labyrinth, living in the dirt and and darkness and grime of her prison, finally she felt brand new, inside and out. The pain of her piercings had long faded, replaced by the delicious exhaustion of their sex and she couldn’t help but sigh with contentment as he helped her from the bath. While she dripped dry in the steam he carefully replaced each piece of her jewelry, clasping the choker and bracelet and ankle cuff in place and tenderly kissing each nipple, still sensitive and taut in the open air.

“Thank you,” she said, pulling his knuckles to her lips. “This was a wonderful reward.”

He smiled at the way she wavered and yawned, doing her best to stand tall. Her hair had grown in the time they’d been together and now it hung like a smooth dark ribbon down the center of her back. Seeing her so pure and clean and shining with jewels reminded him of the goddesses he’d studied with Skywalker as a child, unassuming in appearance but hiding limitless power. She would learn soon enough how and when to unleash what simmered inside her, and when she did, there would be nothing to stop them.

“You earned it,” he said, sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her through the dark corridors and back to her bed. 


	9. Defending Your Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New tags have been added, please proceed with caution.

They sat together at the chess table, Rey’s eyebrows pinched together in concentration as Kylo made his third move. She knew only the very basics of chess, and had played a handful of games with the Queen and some of the other handmaidens before her imprisonment. She was no expert, but even with her limited knowledge she could see she was already losing and so resisted the urge to sweep her arm across the table to clear it.

“I’ve been in here for half of my life with nothing to do. It’s understandable that I would be able to beat you, pet,” he said, trying to placate her as he blocked her progress. “You’ve made the classic mistake of sending your queen out too early and now she’s all you can think about, your focus entirely on her defense.”

“Then you should have warned me not to do it, Master,” she sneered, trying to decide which knight to move next and making a choice that left the center of the board open for attack.

He frowned at her with one eyebrow raised high, a warning that she should watch her tone without saying a word.

“Then you wouldn’t learn from your frustration, would you?” He said, moving his next piece without even blinking, barely a moment to decide. “I already know what move you’ll make next and then which move I’ll make and two moves later I’ll win.”

Fully aware of the childish nature of her reaction, the roiling pit of anger in her belly, she stood up from the table and stalked away, picking up a book about an ancient philosophy called Sith and pretending to be engrossed in it.

“Little brat,” he said, getting up from the table. “A quitter and a sore loser. Your attitude is in need of correction, pet.”

“No, I just don’t want to play anymore,” she said, her eyes moving over the words in front of her without taking them in. It was something about finding strength in pain.

Kylo stood with his hands folded behind his back, reading over her shoulder.

“I’m trying to teach you how to be better, little one," he said, brushing her hair away from her neck and bending to lick and suck a dark bruise into the skin there, finishing with a rake of his teeth. "Not only at chess but at thinking ahead, planning your moves, cunning and clever to stay on the offensive. You win when you strike first.”

He took the book from her hand and tossed it aside, reaching down to pluck at her nipples, tugging the silver chain that draped between the hoops piercing them. Once the wounds had healed he’d presented her with the chain, blindfolding her as he fastened it to the jewelry. She stood still in the darkness as he walked around her glittering and adorned body, ordering her to describe the sensations of the weight pulling at her flesh, the cool chain brushing over her breastbone, the tightening pain when he tugged up or down. She wore the chain every day now, sometimes even twirling it around her fingers when he was gone, hissing the pain through her teeth as she pulled it taut. But he was gentle with her now, just teasing, his fingers merely a threat of what he could do were she to step out of line. His self restraint made her dig in further.

“I’m not going to war,” she said, not daring to move away from his touch. He was kinder to her now, acting more as a trainer than a captor, but he made no hesitation to punish her when she acted out of turn, or when he knew the pain would push her closer to climax.

“Not yet you aren’t,” he said with a pitiful smile, “not until you can beat me at chess. It's not something you need to worry about for some time. But this argument is boring me and I'm growing tired of your bold tongue," he said, tugging at the laces of his trousers. "Go lay down.” 

"Why is it so important for me to beat you at chess?” She persisted. “What if I don’t even like playing?”

“But you do,” he said, offering a lopsided smile. “Or else you wouldn’t take it so badly when you lost. That’s how I know you want to be better at it.” He leaned in close, standing behind her and brushed his nose over her temple, his lips on her cheek, his hand sliding down over her belly to the heat between her legs. “Always dripping for me, even when you're angry. I've trained you well."

He chuckled at the stern expression she tried to keep on her face, sinking his fingers deep inside, his thumb stroking over her clit. Making her orgasm when she tried so hard to hold back gave him a particular thrill.

"You’re dying to beat me at that silly game. It will make you feel powerful, won’t it Rey?" He asked, stroking deeper as her head rolled back onto his shoulder, a breath hissing through her teeth. "I know how much you like power.”

She gave him no further response, even though she trembled in his arms. He nudged his hips against her backside, walking her toward the bed as he nipped at her jawline.

“I told you to lay down,” he said. “You seem to have forgotten your place here, pet.”

Although his voice was calm and even, she could feel the darkness coming off of him in waves. It wouldn’t be wise to push him. But she stood her ground.

“I’m not going to be you Kylo,” she said, holding her chin up. “I won’t." He pulled his hand from her and ran his wet fingers down the side of her face before tightly grabbing her throat to hold her still. She attempted to take a deep breath in an attempt to stay calm, but his access to her mind meant she was an open book. He knew she was afraid.

“Unless you try your best to block me out, little one, I'll know everything.”

Tension thrummed in the air between them. They both knew that these battles were an elaborate mating ritual, the anger and frustration a challenge for dominance. When he pulled at her hair or she sunk her teeth into his lip it was nearly always followed by a growl of want. When he cut off her air until she was seeing shadows and sparks and she raked her fingernails across his face drawing blood, it was met with a fierce kiss, their hearts racing with adrenaline. She would never deny that she was always wet for him, always waiting for his tongue or his cock or whatever he was willing to give, but today she wanted to fight. Today she wanted to know the truth.

“What is it that you’re training me for? Why are you building my strength?” “Do you want to be weak?” He asked, nearly laughing at her question as he still held tight to her neck, allowing her to breathe but also letting her know how quickly he could deny it.

“I’m not weak,” she spat. “But I don’t need to use the force to be strong. I don’t _want_ to, I don’t need that power —“

Before she could finish he had her pushed her down and pinned her on her belly, both arms bent behind her back, his chest holding her in place, the weight of her body nearly pushing the air from her lungs.

“You _are_ weak, little one,” he purred, licking up the side of her throat. “Not in all ways, of course. Your heart is strong, and you’re filled with light. But that will ruin you. Light is easily used up, easily extinguished. You must learn to fight back,” he said, spreading her legs with his own, his hard cock nudging against her opening. “Leaving your heart open is the surest way to have it ripped from you.”

“I’m not going to leave you Kylo. I’m not going to break your heart.”

He stilled, his weight pressed to her back, his breath hot over her cheek. She closed her eyes and tried to find him, but he’d blocked her, pushing her back easily.

“We can leave this place together,” she said quietly. “We can leave this palace, this kingdom and I promise I'll go with you. There’s no need for revenge.”

“Of course not,” he said, finally pushing off of her. “But I want it anyway.”

She played chess by herself when he left her alone, doing her best to remember the tips he’d given her, the reminders to hold back her queen, to protect the center of the board, anticipate her opponent’s moves. When Kylo appeared in the evenings he would glance down at her game, nodding in approval or smiling with condescension, even making a move, sometimes offering another quick bit of advice before climbing into her bed. On the stone wall behind her canopy were small white marks where she’d attempted to count the days of her life underground. Of course she couldn’t be sure how long she’d been there exactly, but there were clues: fresh food brought in or bouquets of flowers slowly fading. On occasion he would let her know that a kingdom holy day had passed and she could count back from there, discovering she’d lost nearly a week in her calculations. And of course there was her cycle. It had changed since moving into the maze, the time between lengthening, the duration of her bleeding shortening, but still it came and went with some regularity. Kylo was extraordinarily gentle during those times, taking her to the baths if she was sore, granting her a reprieve from their more…vigorous activities if she requested it, but still he would show no hesitation or disgust in fucking her while she bled and she found that when he made her come she felt better for hours afterward.

Very very rarely, there were visits from the Queen. Somehow she knew when he wasn’t with her and the stones in the wall would slide open revealing her smiling face. Rey wanted to openly return her insistent affection, but she still held bitterness in her heart. She was still angry at the idea of a mother abandoning her only son, willingly imprisoning him simply for being different. Still, if there was ever any hope of the two of them leaving the labyrinth peacefully, it would have to be with the Queen’s blessing, and so she kept her opinions to herself and smiled sweetly.

“I know now why you trained me all my life,” she said to the Queen. “Taught me to read and to play chess, how to dance. I know now why you kept me close.”

“Yes,” she answered, her voice low and majestic as she offered a proud nod of agreement. “I knew you were the one for him. I knew you would be strong enough to…be with him.”

“And you knew I was…” Rey paused, wondering if she should reveal it at all. She thought back to the scars on Kylo’s back, the vision of the little boy rocking on the floor, his body wracked with sobs. She remembered the whispers of fear in the kingdom when talking about The Force.

“I knew your heart was big enough to hold his as well. It's so damaged, but not beyond repair. I knew you would break through, you would find the little boy…”

“That you abandoned?”

Leia’s eyes went dark, her regal smile fading from her eyes although she maintained a forced kindness on her lips.

“He was uncontrollable. A…a monster possessed by the Force. I’ve seen how you’ve suffered from it yourself, dear. I’ve seen the bruises on your neck and wrists, your gingered walk, bowed head. Do not pretend that you didn’t call him a monster not too long ago. You’ve seen what the Force does.”

“That isn’t the Force. It’s anger, a man wracked with loneliness. A man who was abandoned with no hope for reprieve.”

“You don’t know, child. You have no idea what the Force can do.”

Was it possible that the Queen hadn’t picked her because she was Kylo’s perfect match, because they shared the same “curse”? If she told Leia that she was just like her son, an uncontrollable monster born with the power to feel too much, to know too much, would there never be a chance for the two of them to escape? She’d promised him there was another way, that violence and revenge wouldn’t bring them the satisfaction that he’d dreamt of for so long.

Something else would have to welcome them back to the light of day. Something else would bring them back above the ground.

Kylo woke in the night to a low, even rhythm in his ear. It was quiet, fast, a steady beat on a distant drum, like the hoof beats of a trotting horse. Something he’d never heard before, even when water dripped from the stalactites during the rainy season, or the rocks cracked in the cold.

“Rey,” he spoke into the darkness, but she didn’t answer.

It had been a late night for them and he’d left her in her bed well fucked and stretched out over the furs, her back striped with lashes from a soft leather flogger.

“Why won’t you stay?” She’d asked as he drank from the wine jug, pulling a dark pelt of fur under her arms to rest her cheek on.

She was a vision in the low light, her jewels glittering in the glow of the fire, her skin like smooth, perfect alabaster but for the bright pink marks he'd created. When she’d first entered the labyrinth she’d had a bit of a peachy kiss from the sun on her cheeks and shoulders, but this prison had sucked the color away. When he made her come her chest and face would flush red and he cherished those few moments her pleasure gave him.

“I like to give you time to recover, little one,” he said, “Besides, there are other things I must do with my day besides fuck,” he added, although at the moment he hadn't been able to think of a single one.

Her face had fallen a bit at his explanation, but he’d never been one to hide the truth from her. Theirs would never be the romance she’d dreamt about in her youth. Still, when he left, he didn't bother to lock her to the chain.

“Rey, can you hear me?” He whispered again into the darkness, but an attempt to find her was met only with swirling colors and music, the background of her dreams, bright and sunshiny, nothing like her waking life.

Still the quick hoofbeat rhythm continued like a muted lullaby, and he fell back to sleep alone, soothed by steadiness of its call.


	10. A Canopy of Shrouds

She woke up ravenous, her sleep having been dreamless and renewing in its depth. Her newfound energy made her miss the mornings, waking with the sun pouring through open windows, smelling the flowers in the palace gardens while the cicadas buzzed in the heat. She missed the voices of a busy kingdom, children singing songs, barking dogs and clanging pots and pans. Did he miss those same things? Did his heart break to remember the smell of rain on the hot stones, the sound of gentle lapping waves on the shore, or had he been in the darkness and silence for so long that those things were like the slip of a dream you struggle to remember upon waking?

“Did you ever try to run?” He asked, startling her from her thoughts. 

She sat up, blinking herself awake more fully and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. He was sitting at the chess board in his black leather trousers, a complicated leather harness crossed over his chest and shoulders, black fabric wound around his forearms, his damp hair pushed back from his face. He appeared every bit the formidable warrior, but with soft eyes and a quiet voice. She wondered how long he sat and watched her sleep after his training.

“Run?” She asked.

“When they told you you would be sacrificed. When they told you you would be branded, scarred, left in the labyrinth for me to devour. Did you ever give a thought to trying to escape?” 

He picked the black knight up from the board and rolled the smooth marble between his fingers before making a move to capture the pawn in front of it. When her answer wasn’t immediate he lifted his gaze to stare at her, waiting. His eyes were like topaz, the glittering energy a strange counterpart to the frown on his lips. Worry.

“No,” she said, getting out of the bed and moving closer to him. “I knew it was my duty to the kingdom. I’d known, somehow, that I’d be picked, ever since I was a child.”

“But you _were_ afraid,” he pressed. 

“Of course I was. How could I not be? I believed what they’d told me about you…the lies that spread and grew over the years.”

He nodded slowly and patted his thick thigh, indicating she should sit. When she did he wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her against him, his gaze somewhere off in the distance, outside her room, outside the maze perhaps. His fingers brushed back and forth over her side, up and down the ladder of her ribs as he was consumed with some thought he wouldn’t reveal. There were times when he went quiet for hours, wanting to read or doze, and she would sit at his feet or on his lap, happy to let him stroke her hair or run his fingers over her skin. Her presence was like a balm to him, keeping his temper even, his desire for violent revenge pushed to the background. Those were the moments of softness that would never been spoken of on the surface.

“What do they say?” He finally asked, “About me? Do they know…do they remember who I really am?”

He felt her stiffen beneath his touch, but knew she would tell him. She never lied, no matter how sharp and painful the words were. In all their months together she’d spoken nothing but truth, unlike the others before her who had flattered and preened in an attempt to soothe the savage beast. 

“I…I don’t think they do,” she said, looking down at her hands. “No one speaks of you as a prince or even…”

“What? Even what?” He asked, pinching her side when she tried to avoid his gaze. 

“Or even a man. Everything I heard was terrifying; that you were a soulless ghoul, that you had blind white eyes and a black heart. They said that you drank blood, bathed in tears and that you took the sacrifices and…you…you…”

“Go on…”

“You fucked them to death.”

He laughed then; a dark, anguished laugh that cut through to her heart.

“Yes, well, I suppose that I have, on occasion done such things,” he said, roughly pulling her face close to his, his hand on her jaw as his eyes burned with determination. “What do you think of that, little pet? What does it do to you to know that I listened to my captives cry, begging me for mercy and still I let them suffer? That I caused their suffering? You smile and spread your legs and plead with me to stay in your bed where you sleep beneath a canopy of their shrouds. What does that do to your soul?”

His smile was strained and she saw fear in his eyes, but she would not take his bait. 

“I can’t do anything about what you’ve done in the past,” she said, reaching up to cover his hand with her own. “I can’t bring any of those girls back, but I also can’t imagine what it would be like to be abandoned as you were as a child, abused like you were, left to die in these caverns. Forgotten. In some ways I think that I’m lucky being an orphan, not knowing my parents, my history…there are no memories to weigh on my heart.”

Kylo shifted, moving his hand to her breast, letting the weight of it fill his palm as he brushed over her nipple with his thumb. As he twisted and plucked the pierced bud she hissed in pain, pulling away from his touch.

“What’s this?” He asked, pulling her in closer, his grip tight on her arm. “You know better than to deny me.”

“I…it’s sensitive today…more than usual. I’m sorry sir.”

Letting go of her he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes closed as he steadied his breath. He stood and scooped her naked body into his arms, carrying her to the bed to unlock the cuff at her ankle. Once she was free he lifted her once again and she gratefully curled against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. 

“Come on then, we’ll sit in the baths,” he said, “I’m feeling a bit sore myself.”

  
They soaked together for a while and after she’d washed her hair, twisting it into a tight knot on the top of her head, Rey sat behind him, squeezing a sponge filled with warm water over his shoulders before digging her thumbs into the tight muscles to work out the knots. A low, rumbling groan was her reward and she felt the muscles between her legs clench at the sound of it, a reminder of the night before and a promise of things to come.

Trapped alone together Kylo had molded her into his perfect pet, cutting her off from everything, teaching her to rely only on his touch to help her escape the darkness of her prison. Even the sound of his voice made her heart race, waiting to hear her instructions or whispered praise or even his disappointment. That was how wholly her mind had been twisted, even his low spoken threats of discipline sent a thrill through her blood. When she broke some unspoken rule, incorrectly answered some trick question, he turned her over his knee and spanked her with an open hand, making her cry out as he turned the milky skin of her ass red. And even then she found herself warmed and soothed by his praise for her bravery and endurance, how well she took his punishment. _What a well behaved pet. _After he would kiss the places he’d reddened, running his tongue over the skin that he flogged, massaging her wrists when they’d been tied above her head, all just teasing foreplay for the moment when he would sink his cock inside her, thrusting deep and hard, growling as he filled her with his seed, sucking at the tender skin on her throat. Thinking about it as they sat in the bath she felt herself getting wet and she wondered when he would take her, and how. 

“What a good girl you’ve been these past weeks,” he said, rolling his neck and stretching his legs out into the warm water. “You’ve gotten so much better at chess, and I suspect you’ve grown tired of reading as you’ve done so much…”

“No sir, never,” she answered quickly. “I have dozens of your books I’d like to read.”

“Still, there’s more for you to learn aside from these lofty, intellectual pursuits,” he said, pulling away and climbing out of the water. “Have you ever trained with weapons?”

He held out a hand to help her from the pool and she stood still as he replaced her jewelry, his hands roaming over her body seductively as he knelt at her feet and fastened each heavy piece in place.

“No..no sir,” she stuttered as his thick fingers teasingly stroked through the slick between her legs and up over her stomach, “There was never any need for it.”

“Hmmm, no I suppose not,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her belly, his warm hands sliding up her back as he dragged his lips and tongue up to her breasts. “You were not built for battle, sweet, soft thing.”

Yet as soon as she felt her heart hammering with arousal, the prickling need fluttering over her scalp, he pulled back and walked away; naked and still dripping water as he made his way back to her room. She was surprised when he didn’t lock the shackle around her ankle, although it was hard to predict what he wanted from her anymore. Hoping she was right, she sat on the edge of bed, picking a stem of grapes off of the platter on the table as she leaned back on her forearms, letting her legs fall open a bit in temptation.

As she ate the sweet fruits he pulled a heavy sword down from its mount on the wall; a thick, shining blade with a black iron hilt set with onyx, wrapped in silver vines. As he held it out to show her the weapon he moved to the side of the bed and she felt him burrow deep into her thoughts. Not knowing exactly what he was looking for she was unable to block him out. 

“You could always try to hide everything,” he said, twirling the sword hypnotically, letting the metal and jewels catch the light, glinting like lightning.

“I have no need to hide everything,” she said, “I’m yours aren’t I? My thoughts belong to you.”

She hadn’t said it to hurt him but still he could feel a sudden weight, the heaviness of his soul as his eyes went dark. Making a quick recovery he stepped back, away from the bed and slashed and jabbed at some imaginary foe to demonstrate the strength of his sword. Between moves he easily spun and flipped it, the blade moving like an extension of his arm, smooth and confident. And with every slice through the dungeon air, his eyes were locked on hers. 

No, she hadn’t trained with the sword, but she wanted to. He could feel it, the energy that crackled as she watched him move. There was fight in her, strength that she’d never been allowed to use, power that had never been challenged, fed, encouraged to grow. 

“Come here little one,” he said, lowering the sword.

She climbed from her bed, her gilded nest of silks and furs, and approached him reverently, hips swaying, the jewels on her nipples glittering in the lamplight, her damp hair shining in waves down her back. 

“Take it,” he said, holding the sword at arms length. 

He smiled as he watched her eyes follow the blade, even if she wouldn’t take it from his hand.

“You want to learn,” he said, walking around her, raising the sword and running the cool metal over her skin.“You want to feel the weight of it in your palm, hear it whistle through the air.”

“I…”

Standing directly behind her, he set the sharp edge against her throat, touching the pulse in the side of her neck. Rey held her breath and closed her eyes. Her stomach tightened as she felt a wave of nausea.

“You're nervous. But if you were trained you could easily disarm me right now, cut my throat, end all of this. You would be the hero of the kingdom for slaying the beast," he leaned in to whisper close to her ear, "_who fucks girls to death_.”

As soon as he uttered the words the sword swung back and away, nearly flipping out of his hand as she knocked it away with the Force.

“I’ve already told you I don’t want revenge. And I don’t want to slay the beast.”

“No,” he said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her back against his chest, now pressing the weapon to the front of her throat. “But when we leave here together, when they see that you’ve taken my hand, there will be hundreds who will want us dead. Both of us. You know that or you would have told my mother of your gift.”

She stiffened in his grip, her head spinning as bile rose in her throat. She was suddenly light headed, unable to hold herself up.

“I’ve heard the things you’ve told her, pet, your pity for the monster, the monster _she _created…”

“Kylo…I…” black spots filled her vision as she felt her stomach lurch again. She hadn’t eaten enough. Something was wrong. 

“Don’t waste your tears on me,” he crooned in her ear, dropping the blade’s edge from her throat. “I’ve let my anger feed and grow within me. I’ve nurtured the darkness and become far stronger than I ever could have on the outside.”

She touched the hilt, closing her fingers around it and he allowed her to feel the weight of it in her hand. Her blood pounded in her ears and she felt warm, unsteady. 

“Feel its balance, the weight that will pull the blade through the stroke,” he instructed, closing her other hand around it. “Now pull up and strike down, at an angle…”

And as soon as he stepped away to watch her, she fell, the sword clattering to stone floor beside her.

“I’m sorry sir, I just…I haven’t eaten…”

As she pulled herself to her knees he heard the rhythm again, the pounding hoofbeats, quiet and insistent like hearing the ocean.

“Rey...”

He helped her to her feet and held her wavering body still, staring into her wide eyes. She blinked, too tired to hold off the intrusion of his power and so as he held her gaze the rhythm grew louder, her mind was a jumble of thoughts; a field of blooming flowers, a wide expanse of water, churning and filled with life. He heard voices, a hundred voices from a hundred lifetimes. 

“Rey do you hear it?"

“L-let me go…please…” she pulled herself from his grip and went to the platter of food, shoveling it artlessly into her mouth. “I don’t feel well,” she said, finally turning to look at him. “I just need…I need to rest.”

Her face was pale and covered in sweat, brows drawn down.

“I heard...did you hear it?” He asked, following her to the bed where she was curled on her side facing away from him. “Did you hear the voices? The…the hoofbeats…or drums...a beating...”

“Please,” she said, and he could hear her voice shaking as she burrowed deep into the furs. “Please let me be alone, just for a while.”

He wasn’t one to acquiesce. He didn’t follow orders, but his mind was racing with thoughts, his heart pounding with wonder, and so when she started to cry, covering her mouth with her hands to hide it from him, he did what she’d asked and left the room, not bothering to lock her down.


	11. Light, Dark, Balance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm the worst person alive. I feel terrible that it's been so long since my last update. I encountered some serious writers block with ALL of my projects and a sort of general "I think I forgot how to write things" mood overtook me for nearly two weeks. It was bad. But I promise I won't let it go this long ever again. I have to catch up with my other WIPs and then we'll be back on track. :)

For a long time she lay on the bed staring at the ceiling with her hand on her stomach, warm but still flat, everything within her churning just a bit with nausea, a little prickling of sweat on her forehead. She hadn’t been sick before now; just tired. Different. Off. Looking at the little white scratches she’d made in the stone behind her bed it all made sense. Her cycle hadn’t repeated for nearly 90 days if her count was right.

She was with child. 

How silly of her to never consider it would happen, that his seed would never take root in her young womb. She’d only been a girl when she was selected for sacrifice and for years she was trained as a handmaiden in court, her only purpose to serve the queen. The thought of being a mother never crossed her mind. After all, she’d never had one herself, never knew the magic of a mother’s love and so she never knew to crave it, to emulate it. It was never meant to be her role. He spoke of hearing hoofbeats and voices, but did he know what they meant? And if he did, if he knew she was pregnant, what would he do? How would he react knowing she was going to be a mother?

He hated his mother. Hated his father. His own family had been nothing but a punishment to him, nothing but abandonment and pain. What would he want with a child? What would he say when her body started changing, growing fat, when she could no longer serve him like he desired? She couldn’t feel the baby growing, couldn’t _see _the evidence of its existence within her, just the same, her fingers clutched the skin of her belly like the talons of a hawk and she closed her eyes in reverent prayer. If she didn’t tell him, if she never spoke of it, she could keep the baby safe. If she waited and worked and gave him what he needed, perhaps his heart would soften in time. He wanted so badly for her to give in to the darkness, but in the end, perhaps he would be the one to turn.

Her breathing slowed, the fluttering wooziness in her stomach passed and eventually she stood and went to the basin to splash cold water on her face, surprised at how her hands were shaking, her face pale. She was starving.

And lonely. 

She’d never liked being ill on her own. Some would say she was soft, immature, but when she didn’t feel well she wanted company, someone to stroke her hair, to watch her sleep, to take her mind off her sickness. She wanted someone to assure her that everything was going to be alright, although why she thought Kylo would be the one to do such a thing was beyond her as he clearly had no interest in nurturing. Still, he was all she had.

“Kylo?” She called out, but not with much power.

Trying to reach him through their bond proved difficult as she was weak, exhausted, and when she tried to access the Force all she heard was the strong, rapid heartbeat of her child filling her ears. Beyond that he was expert at blocking her out, constructing endless walls that she couldn’t break down. If he had no interested in being found, he would remain shrouded. 

After eating a some bits of fruit and a forcing down a few sips of water she found herself wondering where exactly he was, struck by the irrational fear that he’d abandoned her, left her to rot in her spacious grave, bored by her, angry with her. Or perhaps he knew she was pregnant and refused to keep a pet with such burdens. He would find someone else. 

Her fear was over run by a new and terrifying emotion: jealousy. A new image sprang forth; the thought of him calling for another sacrifice, another young woman branded and thrown in the pit, carried to the bed in his arms. Would she be sequestered away in the maze to bear her child alone, forced to listen to the cries of his new lover? 

Her heart raced and she felt nauseated again, but swallowed it down and moved to the edge of her room, stopping instinctively at the entrance as if it were the edge of the world. He’d forgotten to lock her down and now she was free to explore the labyrinth as she pleased; the jewels and minerals running through the rock walls like veins, the dripping stalactites that glistened with cold water and the salt crystals that formed them. During her time there he’d covered the floor of her room with furs and silks “_easier on my little one’s knees” _he said, and so stepping out into the corridor was sharp and cold beneath her bare feet. 

“Kylo?”

There was no answer, no feeling, no sense that he was near, but she knew that he must be…he had his own rooms he’d said, where he slept, his training room…they couldn’t be far. Just beyond the entrance to her own bedchamber was a fork in the corridor, spokes radiating in four directions, each one of them dark, giving no hint of what lie ahead, or whether one route was wiser than the last. They were nothing but blind choices. And so calling his name out one last time and receiving no answer, she chose whichever was straight ahead and walked on.

He sat in silence in the center of his room, eyes closed, soul quiet. Every once in a while he could find actual peace in meditation. Settling into the darkness it was as if his bones would loosen in their joints, the tension in his muscles held for so long, finally melting away as he did everything within his power not to think, not to analyze or plan, not to pick apart words or feelings, not to make predictions he couldn’t guarantee, decisions he couldn’t undo. In the past, this hard won peace would be shattered by memories of childhood, memories of violence both given and received. Faces would rise up, smiling, then wailing, nurturing then abandoning. His soul, tacky and weighted down with the tar of his condemnation would struggle towards the light and the exertion would raise his pulse, his shoulders creeping high as his jaw clenched. 

But now there was the rhythm. It was muted a bit but still steady, and it ran through his mind like a river. He tried to breathe with it, to focus on it. It held him for a while but then it grew quiet, as if covered in clouds, a music box muffled beneath wool. Before long it was as if he couldn’t hear it at all, only sense that it was there, like faith in a higher being. He trusted it would be there and having heard it for so long it was strange for it to disappear. His focus finally broken, he stood. 

“Rey?”

Moving to the front of his chamber, he easily slid the stones away to reveal the hidden entrance just next to hers. He’d always been there in the room right beside her, laying just on the other side of the wall. It was close enough that he could hear her crying or the chain dragging along the floor when she paced the room with boredom. At night he heard her calling out to someone when she slept, thrashing through nightmares that he was no doubt the cause of. And he knew quite well when his mother was there. It wasn’t only because he could hear the movement of the stones or hear the tones of her voice, but the force granted him the ability to sense her presence immediately. Her energy was distinct, determined and logical, strength covered with kindness and warmth, like a silk dress stitched together with iron.

Stepping into Rey’s room he found it empty, her chain and shackle laying on the floor. It had occurred to him after he left her hastily the night before that he’d forgotten to lock her in but left it alone intentionally as a kind of test. He thought that she could be trusted. He had thought her loyal. Now, the open shackle was a laughing mouth, the chain a pointing finger. 

_You fool! She took the first chance to get away. What made you think she’d ever stay after the pain you put her through. You’ve made her live in a tomb, didn’t you know she would run?_

“Rey!’ He called out, a bit louder, the word bouncing off the walls.

His heart pounded with rage, anger at her brazen betrayal, but there was something else, something that lifted the hair on his arms and made his chin tremble from the strain of gritting his teeth. The maze ran the width and length of the palace grounds, nearly a square mile of twisting, turning, rough hewn passages. Even in all his years below the surface there were places he hadn’t been, darkened, unexplored pathways he hadn’t chosen as he walked every twist and turn to pass the time. Hidden grottos and caves held bats and rats and venomous spiders. Small holes had eroded away to become tunnels and traps, the walls and floor wet and jagged making it was easy to fall. If she truly was scared, if she was running from him, she was sure to get hurt. 

Biting back a growl of frustration, he turned away from her rooms, chose a corridor from the four spokes that radiated out from the center and started walking.

“This isn’t smart little one,” he called out, listening for her footsteps, her breathing, anything to give him a clue. “Who do you think knows this maze better? If you thought you could hide from me in here you’re wrong.”

He stopped, the thudding hoofbeat rhythm returning to his brain, strong and steady, but bright with an…aura around it…a feeling. Fear. Kylo snarled and stalked forward, turning left at the next available chance.

“Answer me girl,” he snapped, walking the length of a narrow corridor, his head ducked uncomfortably beneath the low ceiling. “If you come to me now and apologize on your knees perhaps your punishment won’t be so severe.”

She wasn’t sure how long she walked, but she knew that she was far from her rooms, far from the warm baths, far from him. There were no more oil lamps hanging in this part of the maze, no more drawings or paintings on the walls or words etched into the stone. Her feet burned with open blisters and her back ached from crouching when the passages became too small to stand in. Being naked she was freezing and part of her worried that she’d never find her way back to her furs, her warm bed and bright lamplight. She’d never get back to Kylo. Out here in the maze she would suffer surely, but her baby…

Turning a corner she found a round room with more spokes. It was a clearing with a well maintained floor and smooth walls. Right in front of her the stone showed three etched symbols that she knew from studying with the queen: Light, Dark, Balance, and the walls were lit with iron sconces holding tall blue gold flames. It seemed she had finally turned the right corner and was closer to the center. Still, she felt weak, her stomach filled with acid that burned in her throat, her breasts were sore, and she was tired. She slid down the wall and pulled her knees to her chest, closing her eyes to focus. 

“Kylo,” she whispered, reaching out to him, looking for him, using all the strength she had, “I’m lost.”

She was met with darkness and silence, but for the delicate heartbeat of her unborn child. 

He was close. If he closed his eyes he could smell her, the oils she rubbed into her skin and hair, the wine on her lips when she kissed him. The sound was back too. He ascertained that it must be her heartbeat. Somehow their souls had become so intertwined that he felt her very existence. Nothing else would be so steady, so intimate and yet so open to him. Perhaps it was an unknown aspect of their bond through the force, something he’d never felt before.

When he was very young his mother had read him stories of princes and common girls finding each other in the wilderness because it was their fate. They were soulmates. A coupling decided before their birth and nothing in the galaxy could keep them apart. He wondered now if any of those stories were true, if even the most hideous of beasts, malformed monsters, blackhearted villains were destined to find someone…somewhere that would bring them into balance. 

Turning a corner he saw light at the end of the corridor, another hub of the twisting hallways. Racing to the end of it he heard the heartbeat growing louder, a bit slow, but strong. And when he came to the open room he saw her, curled against the wall, her knees pulled to her chest, the light of the sconces casting her skin in gold. 

Kylo clenched his fists at his sides, suddenly overcome by a thousand emotions that he couldn’t sort properly, so he chose to go with the most familiar to express.

“Get up,” he growled, standing a few feet away from her. 

Her body startled at the sound of his voice and she looked up at him with red rimmed eyes wide and her mouth open in a silent gasp of surprise. There were streaks of dirt on her arms and legs, her hair damp from the dripping ceiling and yet she looked…relieved…elated even. It made no sense to him.

“I said get up girl,” he hissed, not trusting himself to take a step further. “You thought you could hide from me? Escape? The first chance I give you to show that you’re loyal to your master and you skitter away like a rat.”

“Kylo no! Please listen to me!”

She stayed on her knees, tears running down her face while she scrambled across the floor to grovel at his feet. He looked somewhere beyond her, not wanting to be softened by her tears.

“Kylo I couldn’t find you. I called out for you and you didn’t answer. I was so afraid. I was so scared that you’d left me. You…I thought you knew…and that you were…”

She stopped herself. She’d seen that look on his face countless times; unhinged, unhappy, unable to control himself, and there was no way to predict his reaction to her news. No. It could wait. She would ingratiate herself to him again somehow and then let him know. Right now she had to calm him. 

“I knew what? What did I know? That you’d been lying to me? These soft kind words, gentle touches and promises of submission were nothing but a ploy? Is that what you’re afraid I’ll learn little one?”

His use of the term of affection in a bout of anger was a strange balm even as he stepped closer, his black boots crunching over the stones to invade her space. His presence was ominous all in black, dark eyes boring down at her demanding answers. When they connected she could feel him digging into her soul…looking for the one truth she was trying to hide. 

Black. Black onyx wall, impenetrable.

She cried out as he grabbed a fistful of hair at the nape of neck, pulling her up high on her knees. 

“What are you hiding from me little one?” He spoke quietly, but held tight, wrenching her head backward, forcing her to look him in the eye.

“Kylo please, I’m not trying to hide anything from you. I want you to listen to me. I want you to believe me. Please.”

The tears glistened in her eyes, her lip trembling and he felt a churning realization in his gut. He’d been wrong.

“I was alone for too long,” she said. “It was too quiet. I was feeling ill and it frightened me…I needed…I…”

“What did you need?” Still he growled at her but she could hear a softness at the edges…as if he were struggling to stay angry.

“I needed you. I was afraid that I’d never find you. That you’d left me forever, abandoned me to die.”

Rey stood and threw her arms around him, her face buried in his chest. His strength was deep and immovable; any fear she’d encountered while lost in the maze would easily be conquered by him and it slowed her heart to feel his skin against hers, just to know he was there. She was surprised to feel his own arms wrap tight around her, holding her, stroking her hair for a moment of soothing.

“It isn’t safe to wander these corridors,” he said, pulling back and lifting her into his arms. “You have no shoes on and the floors are covered in sharp rocks.” He held her silently for a moment, looking down the hallways to get his bearings, calculating which way to go. “There are places in the maze that even I haven’t explored. Besides, I have ways of moving the walls to make things easier. The labyrinth is different for me. Don’t go wandering again little girl. I might have lost you for days.”

She kept her face nuzzled into his chest, hiding from his admonishing tone and the dark, dripping walls of the narrow corridor. Listening to his heartbeat as they made their way back to the center rooms she dared to dip into his mind, finding one single thought before he dug his fingers into her back and easily shut her out again.

  
He hadn’t been angry.

He’d been afraid.


End file.
